


Time for a Change

by birdie7272



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Immortal Merlin, M/M, Merthur - Freeform, Time Travel, evil!arthur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:40:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 52,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3431651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdie7272/pseuds/birdie7272
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur came back, but he came back wrong.  The prophecy Merlin clung to for all those years never mentioned that possibility.  He cannot fix this on his own.  He needs Arthur.  The real Arthur.  Even if he has to go back in time to get him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Arthur gazed at the twinkling lake in front of him, eyes dancing between wind kissed ripples and golden sun spots, wondering how much longer he would be privileged to do so. Being king had its perks, but time off was not one of them.  Months had passed since the last time he could sit back after a long hunt and enjoy the view. Peace, quiet, and alone time. Well, almost alone. Where was that manservant of his anyway?

"Arthur!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. Of course it would be just as he was settling in that Merlin would start screaming. He turned to yell about whatever it could possibly be this time -but his voice left him almost instantly.  His mouth worked noiselessly as he tried to comprehend the ridiculousness teetering in front of him.

"Arthur," Merlin panted again as he ran forward.

It was Merlin but… it was not Merlin.

Arthur jumped to his feet and placed a hand on the hilt of his sword.

Could it be possible that his servant aged in the hour he had sent him out to find firewood? This Merlin seemed older, somehow. He was definitely bigger, with broad shoulders and a face filled to its full form –which frankly suited him better. That would be, if this were truly Merlin.

The stranger was dressed in the most bizarre garb. His feet were donned in an odd mass of ties twisted into some form of shoe, the top of which hid under an odd pair of trousers. They were blue, of all things, and made of a materiel he did not recognize. The shirt draped over Merlin's chest was clean, unmarked, and purple. Such state and color could only belong to those of a royal… or a thief.

Sorcery. It had to be.

Arthur gripped tighter on his sword and glared at the warlock in front of him.

"I found you!" The apparition taking Merlin's form stumbled forward- reaching out with both arms as if he expected a hug. Arthur drew his sword the rest of the way and held it steadily between them, the glare of the setting sun reflecting off the tip and onto his opponent's chest.

This man’s eyes went round, but only for a moment. His face soon broke into a gleeful grin, one that crinkled his eyes and wiggled his ears.

This sorcerer did a fine job. The resemblance was exact.

Those bright eyes sprung happy tears.  "I can't believe it. It's so good to see you. _This_ you. The real you. Gods, I miss you so much."

"Who are you?" Arthur’s feet scratched against the dirt and he gripped his weapon with both hands. "What have you done with Merlin?"

"Arthur," the stranger laughed. "It's me! I swear- but- oh, you won't believe me. Just look at me, of course you won't."

Arthur followed the man’s nervous pacing with his sword pointed directly at that babbling throat.

"But where am I?” he asked.  “This is the lake… Beautiful.”  He spun towards the trees and shook his head.  “Oh it's been so long. You look of age, you must be King.  Are you king? Arthur, are you king yet?  You must be. I am probably off doing, well, something.  Oh gods. Alright. It’s near sunset.  I will probably return soon. I can't be here when I do. We have limited time and- why am I looking at my phone? There's no reception here."

That was it. Arthur found the answer. This sorcerer was a lunatic. Why else would he pull a black box out of his trousers and talk at it?  Clearly a crazy sorcerer decided to have a joke and took it too far and now Arthur had to put a stop to it.

"I will you ask you again," he raised his arms until steel rested on the purple draped chest. "Where is Merlin?"

The stranger laughed again and Arthur pressed the blade forward. He failed to see what was so funny but the man only smiled wider –seeing no threat in the weapon thrust against his unprotected chest.

The grinning stranger shrugged his shoulders.  "You prat. I am Merlin."

"You are not." Arthur slid his blade against the side of the man's throat. "And if you do not tell me where he is and who you are, I will have no option but to-"

"Wolfy," the stranger said with such conviction that it made Arthur stop the threat in its tracks.  His opponent smirked. "When you were still a prince, you found a cub wolf trapped inside a fallen log. The mother was dead beside it. Killed by the fallen branch. You freed him and the pup was so grateful it followed you all the way back to Camelot. You didn't want it at first but then it grew on you. I named it Wolfy and you hated the name. You wanted it to have a real name, not some childish nickname. Or so you said. You used it when you thought I wasn't listening.  Wolfy followed you every time you went into the woods, for weeks.

“Then your father found out. I still don't understand why he made you kill him. He said it was because having a pet was a distraction, one a prince could not afford, and that your lying was a defiance that needed to be punished. He said it would be merciful to kill a creature without a mother. Later that night you told me how much that hurt to hear. If that was how your father truly felt, why did he let you live as a child?  

“You told me that if I ever told anyone, you would have me hung for treason. I had no reason to tell another. I never wanted to. I never did. I slept in the empty room next to yours that night. You didn't know it. I was the one who left you the orange that morning. I knew it was your favorite kind. I thought it could help. I don't know why. I don't know why I remember this of all things. Many memories fade but you seem to stay strong in my mind."

Arthur stood dumbstruck. The point of his sword had fallen to the ground and he was just barely holding on as a tear rolled down his cheek. He quickly brushed it away and re-gripped his sword as these stolen memories tore him open, hot blood flushing his system, and anger making his vision blur.

"How do you know that?" he growled. "What magic is this?! How have you stolen Merlin's identity and form?! Tell me!"

"Look at me, Arthur!" The stranger yelled back. "Look at me- really look, you idiot! It is me. And I'm sorry but I can't prove it to you now. I need your help. You came back but you came back wrong and I can't do this on my own. I'll just have to prove myself when we get back."

"Wrong? Back? What are you talking about? Back where? You are not taking me anywhere."

"2015."

"Where is that?"

"Not where. When. It's the year."

"What? That's… impossible. That's over a thousand years from-"

"I know. And you're not going to like what's next."

"What-" Arthur gasped as his sword quite literally jumped from his hands. He snapped his attention to the stranger who held a hand in the air, his eyes glowing gold.

"Sorcery," Arthur accused. "I knew it."

"I'm sorry, Arthur." The stranger suddenly gripped him by the shoulders.

The world faded to black before Arthur could respond. He thrashed against the arms around him, but the grip was too tight, he couldn't make them budge.  Instead, he was shaken to his very core.  Limbs jolted out of control and teeth clashed as he felt his lunch fighting its way back up his throat.

Lights flashed in front of his eyes and the arms entrapping him disappeared. He smacked onto the hard ground and all his senses collided back into consciousness.  

There was so much _noise_.

Gone were the waves crashing around the lake. Replacing it were screams -of humans and of banshees- and horrible blasts of bells and beasts.

When he finally cracked his aching eyes open, he could not recognize the view any longer.

What was this place?

"Come on," the stranger masquerading as Merlin grabbed him by the arm.  Arthur’s limbs were still wobbly but able enough to throw him off. "We have to get out of the road!"

" _This_ is a road?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here's the dealio, yo. I have not been in a great place (head-place/time-space) for writing and it's really bothering me because I really want to write and my ideas are just being scratched down and blah, blah, blah. So here's one story that won't leave me be… as in I thought of it this morning. I will not be editing what I write (AN2: I am now, sorta) so if you want to jump ship now I understand. I don't know when I'll update but I want to write something and posting makes me feel like I accomplish something and I kinda need to feel that now. So, hopefully you enjoy this multi-chapter dribble and I'll fix it one day. Probably.
> 
> Love to love you and thanks for any support!


	2. Chapter 2

"Arthur! Arthur, get out of the road! Come on! Before you get hit, you idiot!"

This strange version of the fake Merlin, screaming, just barely reached him over the chaos of everything else. There was no forest in sight, no trees to hide behind. Even if he could find a place to run, he would need to devise a way past the large beasts bombarding him on either side. The creatures were rushing past, howling loudly and shining bright lights.

Strange, how they never came for him if he stayed standing in the center of it all. They attacked the moment he walked away from the large shards of metal, poking up like a fence, and onto the strange black ground –which thankfully did not swallow him whole, as he feared.

Arthur reached for his sword but grasped only air. "I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"Please, you have to. Just come to my flat and we can talk!"

"Your what?" he couldn't be sure he heard him correctly over the racket going on around them. More lights flashed, brighter than any torch he had seen. It had to be the work of sorcery –a way to throw him off course, to confuse him.

"My flat-" fake Merlin continued to yell, "-the place I live!"

"No! I refuse to move from this spot until you tell me what is going on. Until you take me back to where you took me from and tell me what you did with Merlin!"

"Bloody hell!" This Merlin rubbed his hands over his face and gestured to the source of the lights –now flashing in waves of red and blue. "Someone called the police. They're taking photos? Oh my gods. Just come on! We will talk. I promise. I give you my word we will talk if you come with me!"

"You're a sorcerer."  Arthur gripped one of the shards and tried to pull it from the ground, but it would not budge.  "Why should I believe you?"

"Because it's me, you clotpole!"

"I'm not…" No one called him that word. It wasn't even a word. Only Merlin knew about it- the real Merlin. But the way he said it was so exact… but no. It could not be Merlin. It was not possible. "I don't even know who you are."

"I'm Merlin! I-"

"Would the men in the street please cross to this side. We will hold traffic."

Arthur's attention snapped to the source of this echoing noise. It was human, but different, louder and like steel crashing against tin.

This human was standing near the lights that were blinding him, but Arthur could see the shadow of a trumpet of some sort held to his mouth. He could hear a few more questions from the people that had gathered, a chorus of 'what is going on' and 'how did they get out there'. These people did not look normal. Much like this strange Merlin, they were dressed in the most ridiculous garments, many were quite revealing in their attire. Arthur at least had the decency to look away.

"Oh come on," other Merlin mumbled.

"What's going on?" Arthur demanded of him since he, apparently, knew all the answers.

"Cross to this side now!" The shadow man yelled again. "Get out of the street before you cause an accident."

The beasts stopped running them down, pausing where another human held up some sort of shield. Arthur did not trust it. What could a shield do against such monsters? They were obviously more powerful.

Did they have humans inside of them?!

"More trickery!" Arthur screamed and pointed at other Merlin. "You are doing this!"

"Cross," the loud voice yelled. "I will not ask you again."

"I am not tricking you, Arthur." Other Merlin gestured about, trying to come close to Arthur again. Arthur leapt to the other side of the odd fence and held him off. "These are the police. I can't believe we're going to get in trouble for jaywalking just because you won't listen to me. Why'd I even expect you to? I should have listened to Sam. Dressed like my other self."

"We're coming to get you," the loud voice yelled. "Don't move!"

"No one is taking me anywhere!" Arthur screamed at them both.

"Arthur don't-"

Arthur did not hear what the sorcerer was going to say. The shadow man came into view and it was clear he had no friendly intentions. Without a weapon, Arthur swung first, taking his advantage. He had armor that his man did not and was able to send him to the black earth below with a few well placed hits.

The crowd gasped.  He wondered which direction he could run, taking a second too long because soon there were more people tackling him to the ground. He put up a fight, swinging his arms this way and that, getting in a few good punches but they cheated. With magic no doubt.  

Cuffs bound him, smaller than he had ever seen, though they were undeniably strong and he was forced to enter into the belly of their red and blue beast.

"Unhand me!" Arthur screamed from inside. The speed they traveled was unnatural, even on his fastest horse, he never saw his surroundings pass in this blur. He bellowed continuously –much to other Merlin's chagrin- but they would not free him. Wriggling in the chains only pinched the skin of his wrists.

The shadow men, dressed in equally dark matching garments, led him through a door and into one of the many tall, horribly bright structures.  He continued to yell, "What is this place?! Let me go! I demand to speak to the person in charge!"

"Shut up!" The man, who had his hands digging into Arthur's shoulder, yelled as he pushed him into what was quite clearly a cell. Other Merlin was pushed in with him as well, at least.

Unable to fight, diplomacy was all Arthur had, as the man who locked them in gestured for them to… do something. "Let me out. I am King Arthur of Camelot and I demand you show me respect.  I formally request an audience with your leader."

Other Merlin pushed his wrists forward and the guard undid the lock on his cuffs.

"Ooohh, King Arthur?"  The guard ogled him, up and down between the bars, and sneered.  "Well I apologize, Your Majesty. I didn't realize. I'll just go get the queen on the phone and we'll have you out by morning."  The guard laughed as he skipped away.  

Arthur scowled for a few moments and glanced at his cellmate, only just realizing what the guard did.  He slammed towards the door and shook the cell bars.  "Don't leave me locked in here with him!"

"They think you're loony," other Merlin chuckled when the guard was out of range. "You're going to go to a loony bin, you are."

"Loony?"

"They're going to lock you up with crazy people."

"I'm already locked up with you."  Arthur slammed his mouth shut, not having meant to say that aloud.

Other Merlin's smile rivaled the first in absolute joy. "They don't know who you are, Arthur. They think you're a mental patient. A crazy person dressed in medieval garb, screaming about being a fictional character."

Arthur didn't quite understand all that was said, but understood enough to defend his existence, "I am not fictional. I _am_ king."

"You are _not_ king in this time. Not in this future. You died centuries ago."  The man threw his hands over his face and breathed out a muffled, "I'm sorry."  

Arthur shoved himself further into the cell corner, grasping at the cold iron by his side, his eyes bulging from his skull.

The man raked his fingers over his eyes as he complained like a petulant child.  "Oh, I’m mucking this up real good.  I can't believe I just... Look.  I'll explain if you let me. If you come back to my flat with me."

Arthur shook his head, leaning as far away as humanly possible.   "I refuse to believe your lunacy. You are the one they should throw into a bin."

Th man cocked his head to the side.  "That's not quite what it means."

"Guards! Guards let me out!" He tried rattling the door again. "This man is a sorcerer! I will not be left alone with him!"

The guard did not come back.

"I must say," the sorcerer laughed. "This is extremely entertaining. I missed watching you make a fool of yourself."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself." Arthur huffed and sank onto a hard bench along the wall, his eyes never leaving his cellmate. "How long will they keep us here?"

The man's face pinched.  "Well, you did hit an officer. That in itself is an offense. But you broke his nose, mate. He's not going to do you any favors."

"He attacked me when I had no weapon to defend myself!"

"He was doing his job!"  The man threw up placating hands, "Alright, alright. You have some things to learn. I'll tell you everything if you just come with me. We can get out of here, away from the..." one of his eyes twitched, "-guards, and you can get a fresh change of clothes, something to eat, and maybe some sleep."

Arthur blocked with cuffed hands.  Weapon or no, he would defeat this sorcerer with both hands tied, in front or behind his back.  "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Where else will you go?"  The man scoffed and gestured to the cell and the direction the guards walked off.  "If you thought people were unfriendly in our time- your time. Well, you will be shocked now."

Arthur glared, many arguments on the tip of his tongue.  He would not have to worry about going anywhere, or the hospitality of strangers, if this sorcerer had left him in peace by his lake, and not forced him into this madness.  The man continued to stare at him with boyish concern.  The fact that he used Merlin's face to do it made Arthur's fingers flex.  

Returning home and saving Merlin were the priority.  Arthur hissed in a breath and sighed out loud.  "And how do you expect us to get out of here?"

The sorcerer wiggled his fingers in the air, his eyes shining a dull yellow in the shadow of the cell.

"Oh," Arthur grunted.

The door rattled, clicked, and swung open.

"Hold on!" The stranger quickly grabbed Arthur before he had a chance to walk out. Odd words came from his mouth, stranger than the ones used before, a language Arthur did not know. There was a flash of yellow and a zap from the corner of the room. A small box, with an even smaller mirror, sitting upon a sill, shot fire from its back. The red beam of light that had been mysteriously flashing with no flame source, stopped.

"Come on!" The stranger yelled and grabbed him by the arm before he could push him away.

The sorcerer led the way, saying more odd words under his breath as they passed the guards who had locked them up and their matching comrades.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked. "Are you hurting them?"

The sorcerer's face morphed into a mask of disgust.  "Gods, no! I'm just making sure they won't remember us being here. Or remember our faces. I rather like living here and I'd like for it to stay that way without having police knocking at my door.”  He held the door open for Arthur.  “Speaking of, you're coming with me, right?"

Arthur ground his teeth and glared at the mayhem expanding farther than he could see.  His eyes dropped to the clinking links joining his wrists.  "I suppose I have little choice.”  He straightened his back and shoved his fingers into the sorcerer’s chest.  “You give me your word that you will tell me everything? That you will explain what you have done with me and where Merlin is?"

"It will all make sense.”  The sorcerer waved his fingers and Arthur’s cuffs dropped to the stone.  “I hope."  

The man sounded almost as unsure as Arthur felt.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Unfortunately, Arthur soon found himself in the belly of another beast. Though, now that he had a moment to think, it wasn't a normal beast. People were entering and exiting them at will. There were no teeth, no guts, no blood. It was made up of strange pieces of metal and glass and some sort of fabric. The fake Merlin caught him rubbing at it, so he ignored it the rest of the way and wondered about their speed, again, as he stared outside.

Magic, obviously.

His stomach started to reel in discomfort –probably a part of the sorcery- when the man in front of them asked a question, "So, are you in play or something?"

Arthur looked to other Merlin in confusion. Which of them was he talking to? Surely, Arthur didn't look the type to be in a play.

"Yes, he is!" The liar said before Arthur could ask. "We both are actually. Small production. Just started. Costume fitting today."

"What's it about?"

"Um…" The sorcerer gaped at Arthur until he sputtered, "Arthur. Um, King Arthur. And the Knights of the Round Table."

"The what?" Arthur interrupted.

"Oh, interesting," the man in front of them said. "I like that story."

"Story?" Arthur was ignored again.

"Yeah, yeah," the sorcerer said. "It's great. Lots of fun. Yup. Fun."

"What does he mean by-"

Other Merlin stopped Arthur's question with a hopeless, pleading, quivering bottom lip, "I'll tell you later when we get to my flat-er- place, I mean."

This 'flat' was quite strange. It was in another one of those large structures, up a large flight of stairs, and down a long hall with many doors. The sorcerer ushered him inside and locked the door behind him.

A trained warrior knew it was not safe to be with a threat in such close quarters in unfamiliar territory, but it was better than being lost on that black road with the lights and the noises. It was much quieter inside.

"Um…" Other Merlin shrugged and stepped past Arthur. "Make yourself at home. Would you like a cup of tea? Something to eat? I think I have beans somewhere."

The man ran into another room and Arthur surveyed his surroundings. There were a great deal of things that could be made into weapons, though he was not sure what many of them were meant to be. There were large paintings created with the most realistic of paint strokes –obviously sorcery-, more metal and reflective boxes –though nothing seemed to be sharp like a weapon-, and books. There were so many books.

Arthur took a step towards the bookshelf against the wall as an excuse to see where the sorcerer went and take in the rest of the landscape. There was a window hidden by rectangular-cut drapes near the bookcase –a perfect way to see if their enemies from the earlier incident had followed. It appeared they had not. There were dozens upon dozens of people though, so many people for this time of night, laughing and screaming. Was there a holiday? He would ask, but he did not want his companion to know of his curiosity. There was no need to give him a false sense of trust.

"It seems I only have English Breakfast." The sorcerer continued to talk nonsense from the next room. "No decaff. It's late for caffeine but- and you don't even know what I'm talking about, do you? I'll just make it."

The furniture lying around the room was very large and… poofy. Like a bed that was cut into sections and spread around a table. Why was everything so bulging?  Even the ground was layered in a soft fabric, an odd choice and difficult to maneuver on, but he would make it work.  

It all seemed very expensive. Only a skilled craftsman could make such things. Perhaps this man stole them, as he probably did with his clothes. Yes. Probably a thief on top of being a liar and a scoundrel and a sorcerer and a lunatic. Arthur would have to keep his wits about him.

"You can sit down if you like," the sorcerer came back into the room to gesture at the chair Arthur poked. "I know you're confused but- um- tea will help. Just- just sit."

Arthur did not sit.

He followed the sorcerer into the next room and watched from the doorway. This stranger ran about, opening drawers and cupboards –looking quite lost for someone who claimed this to be their home.

The sorcerer conjured fire and water through more magic as he put something that resembled a pot on the stove. Two oddly colorful cups were dug out of the cupboards along with a very vibrant can filled with tea leaves -this much Arthur deduced by smell at least. Not all his senses were in shock after all.

"This is a kitchen?" Arthur asked, for clarification more than confusion. Kitchens held a great deal of weapons.

The sorcerer jumped at his voice and nodded. "Yes. If you want I can give you a tour. Yeah. I'm sure that will only confuse you more but let's do it anyway." Arthur nodded and the man gestured in the opposite direction. "We'll just let the water boil and um- alright. So, this is the kitchen. I'll explain the appliances later. That's the main room we came in. And in this direction-" other Merlin led the way down a small corridor. "This is the study."

There were many more books in this room, along with a small desk and table with a feather quill standing tall. There. At least that was something recognizable.

The stranger shut that door and pointed to a new one. "That's a closet. I suppose you can take a peek." He opened the door to reveal a very small space filled with various objects. "Just cleaning supplies. Broom, mop, Pin-Sol. And over here is my bedroom," the man walked to the very last door. He led the way inside and Arthur could see the bedroom for what it was.

Messy.

At least he could recognize the bed as a bed when he found it. It was hidden under many more strange garments, strung about and littering the floor.

"And over here," fake Merlin continued -not bothered by the mess, "-is the loo. You can get to it from the hall too if you needed to go."

"The loo?" Arthur asked.

"The restroom. Or bathroom. Or toilet. Or- It's-" The stranger vigorously shook his head, "Chamber pots aren't exactly the norm anymore." Arthur could feel the confusion morph his face which made the man look even more flustered. "I'll explain later."

The man opened the door and revealed another room filled with many things Arthur could not place. The only thing he could recognize was a mirror, pointed directly at them. In the reflection he could see the stranger reach around him and touch something on the wall.  Suddenly, a painfully bright light scoured the small room and pierced his stinging eyes.

"Sorry!" Fake Merlin yelped and the light was gone. "Forgot you're not used to that. Thought it was dark."  He paused, fidgeting with the hem of his tunic.  "Well… I suppose I have candles somewhere. Tea's probably done."

The sorcerer ran around, back on the path they took towards the kitchen.

Arthur followed the moment the bright spots left his vision.

Yes, he would have to keep his wits about him. This man seemed moments away from a mental breakdown. The only other time Arthur had seen anyone so worked up was... well, with Merlin.  He always seemed quite high strung.  But that was Merlin and this man was someone different. Obviously.

Arthur glared as the stranger ran around his kitchen a bit more, avoiding his gaze. Like a coward. "You live here." Arthur said and the man nodded. "Seems small."

"We can't all afford castles, Arthur. Well… I can, but I don't have need of one at the moment. Um-" he gestured towards the main room. "Sit?"

"I prefer to stand."

"Of course you do," the man sighed and shoved one of the bright cups into Arthur's hand as he sat in one of the large, poofy chairs.

Why was everything so brightly colored? All the lights and the expensive pigment must have come from magic -as well as the metal floating in his cup. He lifted the bobble up and saw tea leaves inside. It was quite strange -and probably unhealthy. Poison came to mind, but then again, if this stranger wanted him dead, he could have killed him by now -or left him in the cage with the guards. Still, he did not trust the metal object and did not take a sip.

The sorcerer continued to mumble to himself, ignoring Arthur's curiosity, until he suddenly argued, "And what do you mean small? Compared to what I had working for you, this _is_ a castle. I had one tiny room with one tiny bed. That was all I had. I have all this now. And more. I'm doing quite fine, thank you very much."

Arthur smirked to himself, proud for finally having gotten a rise out of him. Perhaps that was only because he looked like Merlin. It was always fun to rile Merlin.

Arthur shook his head, walked towards the window, and peeked out again. Still no sign of a tail, but there were more people –none of which were paying any attention to him. They were concerned with the lights they held in their hand and the beasts that continued to run around them. The patterns were strange. The behavior odd. Did everyone have magic? Is that what these lights were? Is that how they were able to stop the beasts at a moment's notice? He had far too many questions, and he did not like the answers he came up with.

"You said you would explain everything when we reached your 'flat'. We are here now." Arthur turned to his host. "Explain."

"Right, well, I don't know where to begin exactly.”  The other man jiggled the metal bobble in his cup, knocking it against the clay, teetering on the edge of his seat.  “There is a lot."

"How about you tell me where Merlin is." Arthur slammed his cup on the table and gave the man a glare that’s been known to make knights cry.

Again, Arthur could sense an age around the sorcerer –a depth to those eyes. It rang heavy in the air surrounding them. Nothing like the carefree, floating happiness that Merlin always held. This man was worn, weathered, and scarred. Quite literally. There were some faint scars lining his visible skin, and a few heavy ones running up his right arm, curling over his bicep and disappearing under his strange tunic. Merlin did not have such scars, not that Arthur spent much time looking for one, but this much he knew.

Arthur shifted his stance, trapping the stranger between his legs. "The real Merlin. How did you steal his identity?"

The stranger begged with wide, cowardly, downturned eyes.  "I am the real Merlin."

"That would make you-"

"Really, really old.  Centuries old.  Yes." The man chuckled sadly into his mug. "You owe me a lot of birthday presents." 

Obviously Arthur was not going to believe such a feeble, repetitive falsehood,  but he decided to return to the issue once he had more information. Perhaps he could catch this stranger in a lie first. "You said there were two Merlins. The other you. The one you could not meet. Explain to me how you can be Merlin and there can be a second Merlin."

"Alright." The stranger's face crumpled, deep in thought… or perhaps pain. He seemed to be having a very difficult time as he shook his head side to side. "I am Merlin, but the other me is Merlin too. Let's call him your Merlin. The one from the past. I went back in time to get you and if I had met my other self –the person I was before- something bad could have happened...maybe. But that Merlin, your Merlin, is safe and sound back in Camelot –probably cursing you for having to get firewood without your help. It was quite chilly that day."

Arthur ignored the jest, "Merlin is safe in Camelot."

"You have my word."

Not that that was much to go by, Arthur frowned.  "But I am not in Camelot."

"Not as you remember, exactly. Same place, different time."

Arthur had the urge to search the window for any familiarity of landscape or sky, but shoved that ridiculous notion right back down when he caught his eyes drifting away from the threat babbling nonsense, grasping at his cup like it were a lifeline. "When Merlin returns with the wood, he will not find me."

"No- well- yes- um. For the sake of saving your brain from over-thinking, if all goes well, we will have you back in Camelot with your Merlin at the exact time you left and nothing will change."

"We?"

"I'll explain-"

"Later." Arthur felt his hand grabbing at the hilt of his sword and therefore falling through the air. He scowled at the man hidden in the shadows of the geometric drapes, daring him to make a move. "You're running out of time for later."

"I know. But I need your help now. Something has gone wrong here in your future, my present. I needed to bring you back to fix it. The prophecy went wrong.”  The madman’s gaze dropped to the murky brown liquid in his hands as he mumbled aloud, “You can't mess with these things. They will play out as they will, no one can change them and the moment they try, something like this happens."

"Prophecy?"

"This… this is much harder than I imagined for a second go around." The man took one last longing look at his cup, drank a large gulp, chucked it onto the nearby table, and launched into more gibberish, "Yes, prophecy. It said you would return to Camelot when it needed you most. You didn't. And so they…Um. And so the prophecy didn't come true. But now it is because of you –the other you- that we need you –the real you- and I suppose you did come back as him, but you didn't come back right, and now you're here, which is wrong, but it's what has to happen, so the prophecy is right, in a way, even though it's wrong, right?"

Arthur let his mouth hang open for a moment. Leave it to someone who stole Merlin's identity to talk so idiotically.  

After a moment of deliberation, Arthur chose to cling to the only thing that stuck out, so he wouldn’t appear to be the second slack-jawed moron in the room. "The other me?"

"Yes." Fake Merlin spoke through a fake smile, "I'm only confusing you aren't I?"

"Stop talking like a buffoon and I won't be confused."

"Fat chance that'll happen. You'd be confused by an acorn."

"And you think insulting me will help you, how?"

The man's smile turned true for a moment, before he went back to trying –and failing- to not talk like a babbling idiot. "You were brought back, but pieces of you were missing. Unfortunately, those pieces are the ones that make you whole. Without them, you are not yourself. That is to say, you were brought back with Camelot in mind but you were not brought back to save it. You were brought back and formed the intention of taking it. You, the other you, plans to take Camelot over."

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Is that such a bad thing? I am king. It is my kingdom."

"In this time there is no king. Not in the way you are thinking. What you -the other you- plans to do is clash the old world with the new and the consequences will be devastating. People will die. People have alread-" The man broke off and stared at the window, collecting his thoughts. "The you that was brought back, is not you. He looks like you, he talks like you, but he is not you. He doesn't have your good intentions or your noble heart. What he plans is… wrong. And he does not care."

Arthur felt a surge of warmth spread through his chest at the compliments –a natural occurrence whenever Merlin, and those who looked and sounded like him, so earnestly complimented him. He needed to focus, and remind himself of the quest for more information. After all, what this man was claiming was impossible.

"So," Arthur started, "This other me has killed innocent people and plans to do so again?"

The man nodded his head, "And more. He's not here to help."

"Let me guess.”  Arthur crossed his arms and watched the man reach to the right for a tea that he had placed on his left.  “You lost him?"

"Not on purpose!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and checked the window again.

Everything about this was preposterous. Another him?  Another Merlin?  Time travel?  He had to stifle a laugh at how insane it all sounded –and how insane it was for him to play along. "And you want me to send this other me back to where he came?"

"That's part of it, yes."

"From where did he come?"

The sorcerer swallowed audibly, "What?"

Arthur spun from the window and stormed over to the bookcase, ready to start throwing anything that looked heavy enough.  "You've said more than once that you brought him- or me- back from somewhere. Well..." Arthur shrugged and threw out his hands. "Where was I?"

The man's face worked silently, his hands pulling at nothing, his blue eyes darting, until he shook his head.  "That's not important. What's important is that I need you to stop him. I need you to help me fix this.  I need-"

"So," Arthur felt his smile slipping, "You uproot me from my life, from my kingdom, my people, take me to a foreign place and just expect me to help you fix a mistake _you_ made? Why should I do that?  Because you say you need me to?  This is all absolutely ridiculous. Traveling through time, Merlin with magic, a second version of myself. You are absolutely mad! How can you possibly expect me to believe this? Any of this- this- this ludicrous story?!"

"Because it's true!”  The man finally stood, his body bending with his plea.  “Arthur. It is. And people, good innocent people, need your help."

"And I'm just supposed to trust you? Believe these ravings from a mad sorcerer?"

"You've trusted me this far."

"With limited options!  And I never said I believed you."

The man ran a hand across the back of his neck.  "That's fair. And I know how you feel about magic. I'm not going to talk about that now. You will not listen to me anyway. But as far as your kingdom and your people, they are fine. Gwen knows how to take care of her kingdom without you there."

Arthur’s jaw snapped shut.  "The Queen, you mean."

Fake Merlin gave a very good impression of his manservant's sarcastic sigh, "Yes, Sire. I meant the Queen knows how. And she trusted me, you know. The Queen did. You can trust me too. I really am Merlin."

"Just because you knew a story that was supposed to stay between myself and Merlin doesn't mean he didn't get drunk at the tavern and blab it off, or that you did not steal it from his mind. If you are Merlin, then answer me this." Arthur leaned forward, his hands forming fists. "Merlin isn't a sorcerer. How could he be? He couldn't hide something like that from me. Nor would he. Merlin doesn't lie to me. Unlike you. You told me you would explain everything and all you've done is brought more questions. Nothing you are saying is making sense! I demand you stop with these lies and bring me home at once!"

The sorcerer's head dropped again.  After a long pause he quietly said, "I'm sorry, Sire. I am. It was selfish of me to bring you here. Here of all places.  I should have eased you into the city or taken the time to prepare you.  But he didn’t need- It's just- we do need you, I need you.  That much is true. But I was excited and I didn't think what effect this would have on you. Not completely."  His eyes lifted from the floor, his spine straightening and his hands dropping to his sides - a model servant pose.  "I can prove it. I will. I'll bring you to the library, you can meet the kids and we'll go over everything that's happened and why you're here. I will make you see. As far as going home, I can't take you back yet. Even if I wanted to. Tomorrow, if you still feel that way, I promise I will find a way to get you back."

The man’s eyes never wavered from Arthur’s, steady and as honest as a lunatic’s could be.  

Arthur nodded once.  "The kids?"

"My students. That's the 'we' I was saving for later. And- and I can see you are confused again. Let's get you in bed then, shall we? You're no good if you don't get your sleep. I'll be sure to turn off the alarm. You can catch some Zs and I'll prove myself to you in the morning." The man bowed with a bitter smile. "Hopefully you'll accept me, My Lord. I believe the fate of the world rests on that."

In the stranger's face, Arthur could find only truth. That was most frustrating for him. This man seemed to truly believe what he was saying. Whether he was truly that good a liar, insane, or something unbelievable was actually happening, Arthur couldn't tell. His mind felt fogged by all this confusion. Yet, the only question he could form was, "Zs?"

The madman chuckled. Apparently he made a joke. "Sleep. You can sleep in my bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

Arthur did not like the idea of sleeping in this place, but again, he did not seem to have much choice. He followed the man back to the bedroom and kept his question about this couch and what it was to himself.

Arthur glared at the back of the stranger's head, specifically at the giant ears poking out on either side.  Over a thousand years?  The thought alone was immeasurable.  To think someone actually believed they lived that long, was unthinkable.  Whatever torture magic had put this man through, must have warped his reality.  Clearly, that was why he believed himself to be a manservant from Camelot, centuries in the past or maybe on a different world.   Perhaps all it took was for the warlock to have a drawing of Merlin in one of his many books and the magic did the rest, changing his identity and forcing him to mutter about fulfilling prophecies by ripping a king from his time.  

Pity was not an emotion Arthur gave freely, and yet his better judgement was clouded by the headache pounding down his neck.   

There was a long pause inside the door where neither moved and neither looked away. Shadows clung to the stranger's unreadable face, his dark eyes seeming to sink further into his skull.  His jaw was working minutely, but he was otherwise immobile.

Arthur started to fidget, wanting to scream at him to out and say whatever it was, but firmly drew his lips shut.  The movement drew the stranger’s eyes down and they lingered until Arthur shifted his weight and those eerie eyes darted to the edges of his chainlink.

Fake Merlin shook himself from the trance and said, "Just um- here- let me- "  He raised his hands towards the straps on Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur jumped out of his reach, "I can do it myself."

The man smiled bitterly. "No you can't. Here."

The sorcerer waved his hand and the shadows shattered under an unearthly spark of yellow. Arthur jumped back, ready to attack with the nearest weapon, but he did not feel pain. His armor simply fell off his body and clashed to the ground. That was it.

"It's done," the sorcerer said.  He walked towards the dresser, pulled out some items and placed them on the bed. "Here's some extra clothes. They may be a bit small but we can pick out some late- er- tomorrow if you like. You can't walk around in your own I'm afraid. You'll stick out like a sore thumb."

Arthur did not grace that comment with a response. He planned to be gone by tomorrow. The man did promise.

"Get some rest.”  The man reached out as if to touch him, but thought better of it and headed towards the hall.  “I'll see you in the morning."

"Before you go," Arthur deliberately called just as the door was about to close. "You should know, that if you use magic on me again, I will not hesitate to cut you where you stand."

The sorcerer nodded slowly and closed the door without saying a word.

There were not many choices for weaponry, but there was a set of thick iron book stoppers guarding the ends of a shelf on top of another small bookcase. If he could come to one conclusion this night, it was that this man –whoever he actually was- was very well read. Which meant he was probably clever. Clever and mad. What a frightening combination.

Arthur could only hope to find the way towards getting the upper hand. In the meantime, he brought one of the stoppers to the bed and placed it beside him as he lay down.

He weighed the options of sleep and keeping guard, but his body was fighting him. Every blink was lasting longer and longer and he knew it would be impossible to stay awake. Whatever magic brought him here, was strong. Too strong for him. He needed sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The lights were too bright -white fire, coming from every direction. He tried to cover his eyes but it did nothing to keep the flames away. It burned into him, piercing his skin and skewering his mind. Everything was too hot. It hurt. It-

"Arthur?"

Arthur gasped and opened his eyes to the darkness of his room.  He rubbed his shaking hands over his aching, damp head. When the blurriness cleared, he said, "Merlin. It's you." He instantly relaxed into the bed beneath him and breathed out a long sigh. "It's really you."

Merlin smiled wide –the bubbly, happy smile of a carefree young man. "Of course it's me."

"I had a nightmare," Arthur sucked in more air and shook his head at the strangely vivid images from his dream. "It was so strange. You had magic and there were many metal beasts in a strange place with far too many lights. It was all so very… strange."

Merlin's smile fell as he reached out to touch Arthur's head, brushing the clinging hairs back. "Does your head hurt?"

Arthur pushed Merlin’s hand away and shifted into the pillows. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are."

Arthur rolled over to glare at his manservant and remind him to stop being a mother hen. There were tears tracking down Merlin’s cheeks and dripping off his chin, a dip in his brow that never resided there before. "Merlin? Are you crying?"

"No, sorry." Merlin hurried to rub at his eyes and face, mumbling behind his hand. "Something in my eye."

Arthur let the issue instantly drop. If Merlin wanted to say, he would, he was the type, so Arthur just patted his leg.

Merlin must have been trying out a new pair of trousers. These were remarkably soft. He would have to ask Merlin to find another pair. Or to give up his own. Of course, Arthur would be joking, but only just. And- oh- he was touching Merlin's leg too much. He pulled back and rubbed at his head again. "What are you doing in my room anyway? Why is your shirt off? Have you spilled something again?"

Merlin pushed Arthur back into the bed before he could lift himself up to see. "Just getting an early start. Go back to sleep. I'll wake you in an hour or so."

"Alright." It wasn't a hard battle to surrender. He sunk back, wondered a moment about where Gwen went, but let that issue slide as well. She had a right to spend her nights in her room after all. More blankets for him. He was quite comfortable too. Merlin must have done something to the mattress, because this was perfection. "And Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"Make that two hours or so."

His manservant gave a distant chuckle, "Of course, Sire."

It wasn't hard to fall back asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur woke softly, groaning and snuggling into the pillows under his head. He breathed in deep and closed his eyes tighter, thanking Merlin for letting him sleep in -knowing full well he would yell at him for doing just that as soon as he saw him. He had to be nearby, the smell of him was everywhere.

Early start he said, right? Spilling something in the middle of the night.

Maybe it would be better for Arthur to stay in bed a bit longer, safer for the klutz.

Arthur spread out on the empty and remarkably soft bed, the sheets slipping off his clothed back -no wonder it was so hot, Merlin had not undressed him. Not that he needed help doing so, but Merlin was just so _lazy_.

He stretched even wider, his fingers brushing the tips of his headboard and slipping over the silky sheets -until he bumped the hard curve of a bookend resting on the edge of the mattress.

He clasped it in his hand and jumped into a sitting position, flipping in the direction of the door.

Not a dream.

Not his room.

_Not Merlin._

Arthur scrambled up and sprinted to the door, another strange concoction of shining metal and wood. He laid his back flat against the adjoining wall and lifted his weapon high, his other hand reaching for the handle. He would take in his surroundings, find his insane host, and force him to return him home as he promised. And if he refused... a bookend would be quite the painful death.

Perhaps he could reach the kitchen knives before fake Merlin realized he was awake.

Just as he was about to grasp the handle, it jerked and the door opened. He lifted his weapon higher as fake Merlin walked into the room.  "Rise and shine-” The tray full of food the man had been carrying banged into the door with a clash, “Ah! Shit!”  

Time seemed to freeze as the objects in the sorcerer’s hands stopped descending.  As if it were second nature, the man lifted the tray in mid air and tipped a glass back to an upright position, gathering the milky droplets still hovering along the way.

“You scared me!" he continued and proceeded to enter the room, walking all the way to the bed and placing the tray on the stand next to it. "At least nothing dropped! Eggs are still good. I think you'll like these. I had some slightly questionable ham in the fridge but-"

The man's eyes lingered on the clothes he had laid out the night before -now discarded on the bedroom floor, not that anyone could tell in the mess. His excited tone dropped with his head as he gestured around the room, "I thought I'd bring you breakfast in bed. Just as I used to... Um- the loo- the place to relieve yourself is in there. The white bowl specifically. Ask if you have questions." He started to leave but tripped back on himself before he could exit, "Oh, and I know you didn't wear my clothes to bed but you must wear them today. You'll only get cat calls if they see you wearing leggings. Then you'll get mad and someone will end up dead. I rather it not be me. So! You can wear my sweatpants," he picked up a discarded pair of trousers from the mess, "-these here- or well, you won't fit in my jeans. I think we had different metabolisms. I was gifted and you were- are- never mind! Those- and I think I have a sweatshirt in here that will fit you."

As the man mumbled and shuffled about, Arthur never took his hand off his weapon nor did he move from his spot near the door. The urge to run was strong, but, as the day before, he had nowhere to go. Still, the knives were a room away. In fact, there was one on that breakfast tray, dull but it would function. If fake Merlin continued to prattle on, he could steal and stow it. It would easily fit in his boot.

"Here-" fake Merlin tossed an odd ball of red fabric in his direction. "I know your royal stubbornness will not want my help, so feel free to dress yourself and come out when you're done. We can go to the library straight away. I'll explain everything there."

Arthur didn't get a word in before the man ran out the door and shut it behind him.

Arthur was quick to steal the knife and tug it into his boot, reminding himself that he would keep it when he changed. Yes, he would wear the strange clothing. It was loose and somehow stretchy, and he could fit his chainmail underneath. It wouldn't be the greatest protection, but he would blend in. That seemed the best thing to do; to play along until they reached the library. Then he could go home.

First thing first, he did have to pee.

Second thing, which white bowl was fake Merlin talking about?

Arthur came out of the bedroom dressed, fed, but not happy. He was just as unsure about the food as he was unsure about the tea, but concluded that if the stranger wanted him dead, he would have killed him in his sleep. He had ample opportunity, Arthur was completely off guard -something he was still quite mad at himself for. It was Merlin’s smell everywhere, lulling him into a false sense of security. How it was possible to steal one’s smell, he did not know. He blamed magic for that. He also blamed Merlin because he could.

Arthur only hoped this fake Merlin would not speak of the encounter they had late at night. Arthur was sure it was, unfortunately, not a hallucination. He had allowed himself to be comforted by this man, to be touched by him, to be close, to believe it was actually Merlin.

If the stranger valued his life, he would say nothing.

He met the man in the main room. With the sun shining through the closed curtains -a poor choice of curtains if they did not serve their purpose- Arthur could see the room a bit clearer. What he noticed now, that he did not the night before, was how unlived this place looked. There was dust collecting everywhere, prints from where he had touched surface’s the night before. It was clear this was not the man's home.

His eyes drifted to his liar of a host, dressed in another odd outfit this day, gray slacks leading up to a blue tunic-snug to his body and painted with a strange design.  If Arthur saw purpose in it, he would get a closer look and touch to find out what material it was, if it stretched the same way his did, and ask what the symbol meant.  Of course, he did not care to do so.

The exposing bright light illuminated more evidence of differences between the real Merlin and this one. Merlin was quite predictable in his boyish charm, with his wide eyes and his quirky smile. This man was a conundrum. Not a wrinkle lined his face but the weight of a thousand years seemed to linger on his skin. His back hunched in a way Merlin's never did. His eyes weren't nearly as bright or blue, heavy bags from many sleepless nights weighing them down. And the scars were more prominent now, the signs of many battles his Merlin had never seen.

Other Merlin stepped closer and threw his hands on his hips -reminiscent of Merlin's stance, but not held with the same bravado. His eyes scoured every inch of Arthur. Arthur couldn't help growing a bit uncomfortable as the eyes lingered as they had the night before, and he wondered if he had put the clothes on right after all. It did not seem too hard. Surely he wasn't that much of an imbecile.

"Your boots are... yeahhhh, they're fine. Just-" fake Merlin dove to his knees and tugged at the hem of the tucked-in trousers.

Arthur's heart leapt as the hidden knife jumped up and out of his boots, clattering to the ground. The man reached for the knife and Arthur tensed, ready to kick him away and battle for his right to a weapon, but the man did not turn it against him. Instead, he mumbled something that suspiciously sounded like, "Butter?", smiled, lifted the hem out of the way and carefully tucked the knife back into Arthur’s boot before untucking the other side.  Satisfied, he stood and walked to the door. "Ready to go? Or does his majesty wish to put on his makeup too?"

Arthur paused a moment, too shocked by the gesture to understand he should be offended. It seemed this man had some sense of honor after all.

Then Arthur's mind caught up with him. He huffed and stepped out the open door, walking down the corridor only to realize he wasn't sure where to go. All the doors looked exactly the same, these numbers held no meaning. He reluctantly stepped to the side and heard the sorcerer chuckle as he passed, leading him back out into the crazy, dangerous, magic-filled world.

The sun was bright that day, illuminating the gray stone path and the hoards of people moving between each other -each intent on getting somewhere, many disappearing into the strange tall structures on either side of the black ground. The monsters -and Arthur was quite sure he would call them nothing else- were back, some running past at immeasurable speed and others barely moving. The people he saw within were content, none looked afraid. Perhaps that was part of the spell. After all, he had entered two -reluctantly both times- but came out alive on the other side. Still, his instincts were to run over and pull those people out. If only he had a better weapon.

"I'd say we take the Tube," the man said, "-but I think you'd have a heart attack. As fun as that would be for me, I'd rather you not end up in jail again. We'll take a taxi."

Adding this 'tube' to the list of needed explanations, Arthur asked the most imminent, "What's a taxi?"

"The car we took to my flat."

"The...car..." Other Merlin smiled, rolled his eyes, and pointed at one of the monsters. Arthur scrunched his nose and asked, "These creatures are called cars?"

"They're not creatures, Arthur. They're just cars. People own and use them to get places."

"Everyone has magic then."

"Cars don't require the use of magic. And is there any way you could not talk about that right now? You really will get put in the loony bin if you keep babbling on about magic. People are already starting to stare."

The sorcerer waved his hand and whistled -obviously the steps to another spell to call one of these 'cars' over.

"See," the man said and opened the odd door for him, gesturing to the seat inside. "Not a beast. Just a car. Are you scared of a tiny car, Sire?"

Arthur full well knew the man was goading him. Arthur stepped up to the belly of the beast, pointedly raised his brow at him, and slid inside. The man slid in a moment later and spoke to the woman sitting in front of them, "Gaius Library, please."

"Gaius?"

"I'll explain-"

"Later."

Arthur wanted to close his eyes and grip anything within reach for dear life as the 'car' moved. He might have given into the temptation to lose his breakfast but the sorcerer wouldn't stop reminding him of his presence. Tapping his fingers, thumping his leg, rocking his head.

"Do you have to do that?"

"What?" the man asked innocently.

"Can you not sit still?"

"I am sitting still."

"No, you are not."

Other Merlin groaned, "I knew I should have made you drink your morning coffee. You are such a grouch without it."

"My what?"

The man smiled fondly.  "Just shut up until we get there."

"You do not speak to me in that way."

"Whatever you say, Your Highness."

Arthur's fingers twitched. Such sarcasm from someone without armor. Stupid Merlin.

Fake.

Fake Merlin.

Stupid, fake Merlin.

The library was quite grand indeed. Fake Merlin opened the car door for him and he stepped onto the flat gray stone path. The building was as big as a castle, stretching wide in both direction and high in the sky. The columns that supported it were as big as ancient oaks, too big to see behind. There were windows covering the sides, every floor visible with a new row of panes. Through those he could see the flocks of people inside, all talking or reading or doing something on glowing black boxes -big and small. Probably more magic.

Words etched in the stone in the center of the great building read ' _The Library of Gaius_ ' and under that it read ' _Presented by the Camelot Foundation_ '.

The stranger smiled at him, patted him on the shoulder, and jogged in front -leading him inside.

The first thing Arthur noticed was how quiet it was inside the building. Though he was more prepared this morning, he cringed to think he would ever get used to the noises outside.

The inside was just as impressive as the outside, books on every shelf and shelves lining every wall. Never had he seen so many books in one place. He spun from the center of the room -a small circle with an unobstructed view all the way to the top of the glass dome ceiling. He could see people on every floor, none of whom paid attention to him.  Perhaps this truly was a hallucination, if crowds of people could ignore the presence of a king.

The massive display did not end above, under his feet reflected stones of gold and red.  He stepped back and squinted at the interchanging colors until the pattern started to form the familiar swirl of his family crest; the Pendragon dragon in the center of this grand library.

"Do you like it?" the sorcerer asked, coming up to his side, sounding hopeful and eager. "This isn't the only room to see and you can get the best view from the top floor. We can-"

"Who gave you the right to use my family's name?" Arthur pointed to his feet, his voice echoing all around. "You have no right unless the king gives it and I did not grant a sorcerer any such right."

The sorcerer’s scowl coerced that sense of age back in his eyes, his voice dropping and promising danger. "There are some rights you are born to, some you earn, and some you take. To answer your question, all three." He quickly shoved his way through a crowd full of people to get to the back of the building.

Arthur was not sure how to interpret such a baffling answer and stalked after him. If he did not keep reminding himself that he should not compare the two, he would have said it reminded him of Merlin in his very seldom, odd, completely by chance, wise moments. Still, he had his wits about him, and stopped the connection before he could make it.

The stranger did not turn around, just stopped at the wall in front of a peculiar sort of glass, metallic in look but unlike any metal he could name. That went for many of the metals in this strange land.

A small circle of light was placed next to this odd wall and Arthur watched as more people came over and pressed the circle above it -making that light shine as well. The symbols atop the circles were arrows pointing up and down, though Arthur could not understand why.

"What are we doing just standing here?" he asked the man.

"Waiting for the lift."

"The lift?"

"You'll see."

A bell dinged above their heads.  Arthur jumped as the wall parted, opening into a room big enough to be a closet. The sorcerer ducked inside before Arthur could ask.  His gut coiled, but where else would he go?

He, along with a few of the oddly under-dressed strangers surrounding him, piled into the small room.

Was this a brothel of some sort? This sorcerer was not going to win him over with such blasphemous gestures. Everyone crowded in, touching each other, it was completely undignified. Why were they all facing the same direction?  Surely they were not about to engage in some strange sexual act. Did sorcerers do such things? Was this normal for them?

Then the wall closed behind. No one moved.

Arthur gasped and his hands curled to fists. He knew this was a trap.

He spun to the sorcerer, "Open that wall. Let these people go!"

The man's eyes bulged, his face turning red, "Arthur-"

"Your quarrel is with me, not them. Let them-" Just as Arthur was about to go for his knife, the wall behind him parted and everyone surrounding them quickly left the small room to enter what looked like a different section of the library, Arthur couldn't be sure.  Before he could check, it was his duty to make sure everyone left the room safely. For someone who just saved their lives, they were very ungrateful and giving him many strange glares.

Before he could take one step, fake Merlin clasped his wrist and jerked his body behind the closing wall. Arthur spun with a fist raised but the man surrendered with hands up before he could strike.  

"That's one way to clear an elevator, I suppose," he mumbled wryly.  

"Why did you trap them in-"

"I didn't trap anyone! This is the lift. You get on and it takes you to a different floor of the building. See that three lighting up right there.”  The man pointed to more glowing symbols.  “We were just on floor three. We're going up to floor ten and then getting on a different lift. It's just a box that brings you up or down to the floor you need to go. People come and go as freely as they wish. There is no trapping, no locking anyone in, and -before you ask- there is no sorcery."

"Then how-"

"A rope and pulley system but on a larger scale. You remember how you pull water from the well? Well, actually you probably don't remember that. You never had to fetch a bucket in the freezing cold when your royal prat wanted a bath in the middle of winter."

"Shut up," Arthur resisted the urge to add _Mer_ lin to that.

The walls opened and closed as more people entered and exited until it stopped at floor ten, which appeared to be the biggest number. Fake Merlin led the way out of the room, or box if that is what it was, and led him to the banister.  The view was the opposite from where he entered, sights cleared from the top of the dome down to the circle below. From there he could gape at the full beauty of the Pendragon crest etched into the floor, a shining red and gold reflecting into the shadows of hundreds of halls. He frowned and his fingers curled against the polished wood.  

"Come on," the man murmured.   Then he brought Arthur to the side, weaving in and out of rows of books before landing in front of a door that read _Stairs_.

"There were stairs and you had us take that contraption?" Arthur yelled.

"Ten flights of stairs!"

"Scared of some stairs?"

Other Merlin rolled his eyes and led him into the stairwell.

"Wait," Arthur said. "If we went all the way up, what are we doing at the stairs?"

"Going all the way down." The sorcerer wiggled his brow and faced a blank white wall. Arthur frowned in confusion and then frowned anew when the man whispered odd words and yellow flashed out of his eyes. The yellow swirled along the air currents, glittering in the odd, harsh light until it grazed the wall.  A rectangular design quickly jumped into view, glowing for only a moment before fading into the paint. Silver replaced gold and another metal wall formed -a replica of the other 'lift'.

The sorcerer entered when the wall parted.  Arthur hesitated but followed him inside, still wary of being trapped in the small box. "I thought you said there was no magic."

"This one is hidden. There is only that much magic involved."

"Where are we going?"

"It's a place where- Where you'll learn everything."

"And if I don't believe you-"

The man glanced at him and nodded.  "I'll take you home. Just as I promised. I give you my word."

"Good."

Silence fell as the lift shook.  Steel screeched against steel and the bottom of the box pulled them down.  Arthur crouched, preparing himself for the slow impact.  The sorcerer looked down at him with one eyebrow raised, breathed in sharply, but shook his head and said, "I should tell you. Where we're going. It's a- it's a school, of sorts."

"A school?"

A bell chimed and the wall opened before them. Arthur waited for the sorcerer and stepped through at the same time to avoid getting trapped.

The stone cave it opened into was quite large. After a rough preliminary sweep he found no windows, but a few halls he could run down if he had need. There were many weapons lying about, not just things he could make into weapons but actual swords and shields. They appeared rusted and unkempt but they would make a mark all the same, if he could fight through the glass barrier protecting them.

There were many glass barriers, holding similar items all around the room, scattered around benches and paintings and other odd fixtures. Everything was so colorful and rich and -well- magical. With the amount of detail in everything, it would have taken many craftsmen to build this place and many more to provide the decorations. It must have cost a fortune.

On the back wall a great spout of water descended into a small pond, and no river to lead into this indoor waterfall. Above it was a symbol he did not recognize -though it seemed as though he should know it, he just could not place it. It was a triangle with curved lines swirling off each end.

Corridors carved into the rock enclosing it lead his eyes to the fireplace burning large and bright against the next wall. Above it laid another symbol made of colored stone, the visage of the Pendragon crest. Next to that was a large painting of a dragon and a small girl sitting on the edge of a cliff. Underneath were more corridors carved into the stone.

Arthur walked further inside, making sure he knew where the sorcerer stood at all times as he continued his investigation. A great black wall encompassed the front of the room, scribbled over in chalk. He squinted at the bizarre phrases but not for lack of light.  This cave was quite bright for having no windows.

He looked up to see a large crystal shining as bright as the sun, placed directly in the center of this great cave. His eyes watered and he blinked it away, his vision clouded by its lingering glow. With blurred sight, he steadied his hand and brought it to his leg, ready to dive for the knife at a moment’s notice.

"It's a school and much more," the sorcerer said. "I'll give you a tour. I promise you have nothing to worry about here."

Arthur glared at the too-happy tone and took another look around, bringing his gaze back to the words scribbled on the wall. His eyes were drawn to one particular scribble in the closest corner, the handwriting familiar and swooping, like his own.  "What do these words-"

He was cut off by the chirping voice of a young girl echoing through the chamber, "Professor Ealdor! Can you tell Olivia that- What is he doing here?!" she screamed and Arthur flinched as a suddenly furious scowl turned on him.

"He's not-" the man yelled, but Arthur did not hear him finish. All his senses swam as a strong heat overwhelmed him, dove past his skin and gripped him from the inside. Tendrils of it closed around his center and before he could blink, the ground under him moved. He tried to take a step, to understand this sensation, but found his body spinning instead. Another blink and he faced the ground -ten feet in the air.

His breath choked on a panicked gasp and he snapped his gaze to the girl. She was glaring at him with yellow eyes, her hands clenched and pointed directly at his chest.  Magic.

"Put me down!" he yelled.

"Put him down!" the sorcerer screamed simultaneously. "It's not him! It's him! It's my Arthur!"

The girl just barely dropped her hands but stopped glaring in order to look at her Professor. "You mean-"

The man nodded, "Now put him down, this instant."

The girl squeaked.  

Arthur’s stomach lurched as he speedily dropped towards a broken leg.  He just barely avoided a full collision when he jerked still, half a foot off the ground. Yellow wisps swiftly disappeared and he fell the rest of the way.  

She quickly ran over, trying to pick him up by the arm, no matter how much he shook her off.  "I'm so sorry," she cried and jumped three steps back as soon as he was on his feet.  

She was tall but quite tiny and he would easily take her in a _fair_ fight. Sorcerers did not fight fair. However, he couldn’t shake a glimmer in her blue eyes that he found himself trusting. Or maybe it was the fall of her raven hair.

She quickly picked up the side of her bright blue -far too short- dress and bowed her head. "So, so sorry, Your Highness, or, Majesty, or -oh my, I don't know what to do. I've never met royalty. Well besides the other one but-"

"It's fine," Arthur cut her off. She definitely rambled like someone he knew. "You can call me-” He meant to say Your Majesty or the like, but he surprised himself and all others when he suddenly smirked and said, “-Arthur."

The man's jaw went slack. 

The girl smiled wide and bowed again, "Of course, Arthur."

"Don't bow to him," other Merlin said. "It'll go straight to his head."

"Shut up," Arthur told him. "The girl has manners. Unlike some people." He turned back to her and lifted his hand, "You may stand."

"Thank you." She smiled again and turned to her Professor. "I'll speak with you later. I can see you have a lot to do. You'll have a meeting to catch us all up later, yeah?" She didn't wait for him to confirm before she continued, "I'll let everyone know it worked. Sorry again, Arthur."

She ran off and Arthur tilted his head at the stranger before him.

There were quite a few things on his mind.

One being 'my Arthur'. Why would a stranger phrase it such as that? In fact, why would anyone? Merlin surely wouldn't. That sounded far too personal for Merlin's taste, and for his own.

Second being, Professor Ealdor. Ealdor was Merlin's home town. Of course, a sorcerer could know that by stealing his identity and memories as well. That name... it made something in his gut flutter.

Or perhaps that was the flying lesson he just received.

Third being, "Magic?" Arthur pointed at the corridor the girl ducked into. "This is a school of magic."

The 'Professor' held up his hands and tilted his head. "Please don't be mad. Yet. I would have told you but I didn't think you'd've come. I told you I'd tell you everything so, come on. Might as well since you're here." He gestured towards one of the corridors by the waterfall and started to lead. "I'll show you everything I can."


	6. Chapter 6

The Professor led him through the corridor, past many doors that had small windows revealing more children of teenage age reading or writing or talking, and back to a large wooden door at the very end. Behind it was a small study. There stood a suitable desk, more books lining the walls, paintings and curtains, and many objects Arthur could not recognize.

Arthur could not help reevaluating his idea that this could all be one tortured madman's fantasy brought to life.  Meeting that girl had been frighteningly strange but she had aligned some truths for him.  She was genuinely terrified of someone, or something, and therefore there was an actual threat to be had -whether it was truly as dire as  Professor Ealdor said, was yet to be seen.  It also established that the Professor was not alone in whatever this was, though he may have control over these students of magic and force them to do his bidding.  After all, he had altered the minds of the guards when they escaped the prison.  Witches or not, Arthur would never allow anyone to be manipulated by magic in such a way.  

The Professor went through the process of lighting a few candles and gestured for Arthur to sit in one of the chairs opposite his desk, while lecturing, "The Old World has died. Everything killed and forgotten. Even the trees. Religion had a lot to do with it, not everything, but many disagreements sprung from it and it overtook magic. Then there was land and jealousy and treason. Now there are very few who believe in the ancient ways. The world is too unstable to accept magic now.

“World War III is imminent. Peace must be reached. One false accusation, one move too large and everything will blow us all to hell. Literally. If people are scared they will fight. We are trying to peacefully help the world stabilize before introducing magic to it. I'm not sure we will in this lifetime, but I've seen what can happen firsthand if we move too fast. I know what patience can bring.

“Some don't believe it should be this way. They believe magic should be used at free will. I sympathize. Hiding your magic, a piece of who you are, is very hard. But...the end result will justify the means. If only more used that maxim to signify peace."

Arthur took advantage of his pause, "And you are afraid this...other me will cause this world war? What do you mean by that?"

"Everyone that exists fighting for their lives." The Professor slumped into the opposite chair and pulled at his hair. "I do believe he intends to do just that. In order to create something out of the ashes, the fire must be set."

The Professor did not speak for a long while, staring into the flames of the candles flickering across the dark room.

Arthur impatiently shifted on his wooden chair, "Why did you call me here? It seems you have the means to stop what you did on your own. You have a school full of sorcerers under your control. Why do you need me to clean up your mess? What advantage do I have over my other self that you do not?"

"Can we call him something else?" An animated voice, soaked in a strange accent, called from the office door. A teenage girl with clear ebony skin leaned into the candlelight, the flames glistening off her shaved head. A small crystal sparkled from her lower lip as her mouth curved into a quick smile. "That other Arthur. Can we call him, like, evil Arthur or dark Arthur or- oh my god, dude! Darthur! Can we please call him Darthur? Something cool."

The Professor tried and failed to hide his smile, "What are you doing in here, Ryan?"

The girl shrugged, "Eavesdropping."

"Well, stop it."

"Her name is Ryan?" Arthur asked.

Ryan gestured over her shoulder, "Johnathan and Olive needed your help with something. I think Johnny's set fire to the curtains again."

"Ryan is a boy's name." No one responded to Arthur.

The Professor's face fell and he mumbled something under his breath. He stomped out and called to Arthur, "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

Ryan was dressed like a boy in her strange blue trousers but she held herself as a girl. The tunic draped over her was quite feminine in style and floral in print, falling off her shoulders as if it were a dress. This world was a confusing one.

"You got a thing against lights?" she asked, pointing towards the ceiling.

Arthur looked up but saw no torches. "There are candles lit here," he said gesturing to the desk. He could see perfectly fine and, though he did not trust a sorcerer, he still had the respect and decency to honor a lady's wishes. "Shall I fetch more?"

Ryan didn't answer him directly, just smiled. "It's really you, then?  Chivalry is not dead.”  She chuckled to herself.  “From the very little the Professor's said of you, you seem like a nice guy. Great actually. You were the greatest man that ever lived according to him. He's missed you."

"That's not Merlin."

"Merlin?" Ryan giggled and jumped into the room, taking the chair next to him and leaning into his space. "Is that his real name? He won't tell us. Maybe he changed it. He's had a few lifetimes to do so."

Either the Professor had the children under a spell, believing him to be centuries old, or they were all delusional together.  Arthur searched the girl's eyes for any sense of urgency or fear or mind control, but found only clear, bright brown eyes blinking up at him. 

"Right," Arthur scoffed and continued to look about the room. There was something odd about the frame in the corner. The painting was a simple landscape, nothing odd about grassy hills leading to ripples of blue water and a cloudy sky.  He couldn't put his finger on it, so he went up to trace its pattern. "Time traveling sorcerers live long?"

"The time travel was new to him. All of us. I doubt it's been tried before, though the Professor says he knew someone who did it once. As far as the Professor's age, he's lived for centuries, over two thousand years I wager. He won't tell us. Not really."  She jumped up excitedly and slapper her palms on the desk.  "Will you? What year are you from exactly?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

Arthur reached around, picked up a candle, and retraced the outline.  The orange glow illuminated the arc of scratches on the floor, ensuring Arthur’s guess that this was in fact a door. He tried to open it but it would not budge. He turned to look for a key, uncertain about why he felt he should enter or why he felt comfortable doing so in front of this girl.

She smiled at his attempt. "You can't go back there unless the Professor says it's okay."

"What's there?"

"That's where he lives."

"No, I've seen where he lives. His _flat_ , or whatever he called it."

"Hm." Ryan smiled as if in on a private joke. "He's lived many places."

The Professor came back in that moment, his arms crossed over his chest at the sight of Arthur rummaging through the drawers of his desk. He turned to Ryan and said, "The curtains are fine, well, they're ash, but everyone else is fine, if you want to help clean up the mess."

"But Doc-"

"Now." The Professor pointed towards the door and she rose. "And I thought I told you to stop calling me Doc."

"Great Scott!" she called from the hall.  Whatever she meant by that had the Professor sighing.

"I never should have lent her that movie. Right, so, where were we?"

"You live there," Arthur pointed to the door.

"I've lived many places."

"So I gather." Arthur frowned and walked to the door again, not willing to admit he had not intended to do so. "What's behind there?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"You know what concerns me better than I?"

"I do. At least, I know what concerns me which concerns you and whether you will help or not. So, sit." The Professor pointed to the chair again. Arthur did not budge from his spot. "Or not. Alright. Here we go." The Professor walked towards him slowly, "I'm Merlin- And before you say I'm not, I am. And if I can't prove it through words, let me show you." He lifted his hands and Arthur jumped back a step, directly into the painting behind him. The Professor’s mouth pinched.  "You know, this really would be easier if you sat."

"I'll stand."

"Of course you will. Just, stay still."

The Professor raised his hands again and Arthur did not flinch this time. He allowed the sorcerer's calloused fingers to touch his temples and only managed to say, "What are you-", before his mind was bombarded by images.

_Do you know how to walk on your knees?_

The sun was hot on his face, sweat pouring down his sides. He jogged to catch up to Arthur who he could see already diving into the river ahead. _Come on, Merlin. Don't be a big baby. Jump in!_

There was a ball with song and dance. He had a tray in his hands and smiled at Arthur from across the room. Uther was next to him going on about something the prince was not interested in. He made a face and Arthur held back a chuckle, glaring playfully until he brought him more wine.

Wolfy ran through the barn, kicking up hay and yipping at mice. He threw him scraps of meat as Arthur watched, smiling and laughing as the dog rolled in the mud.

The clouds were thick overhead but Arthur wanted to go on with his hunting trip. He gathered an extra blanket and jogged after the prince, groaning as soon as the rain came. Arthur took the extra blanket without a thank you, but gave it to Lance who had forgotten his.

He woke up confused, the terrain new to him. It was some sort of beach. The warlock would not tell him what was happening or let him leave. It only made sense when Arthur made it through the maze and sat opposite him, ready to drink the poison for him so quickly.

Gwen visited in the winter, helping him keep the fire with fresh wood because he expected Arthur to return shortly and he had not had a chance to stop in after helping Gaius. Arthur walked in, prepared to yell, but stopped when he saw Gwen and offered her his coat for her travel home. She took it with a blush and a smile.

Fire. There was a great fire.

Arthur wasn't in his room, at least it didn't appear that way. Then he heard the sound of braying and went running to the bed where he saw his master donning a pair of giant donkey ears.

Training was going strong that day. Morgana decided to sneak in because Uther was away on peace talks. He watched with a smile on his face as she and Arthur dueled, a very close match. Arthur was usually quite the unpleasant winner but held his tongue that day.

Morgana's birthday came around. She was gone and Arthur did not wish to talk about it. He requested Arthur's favorite soup and tried to entertain him with terrible jokes. It did not work.

Uther passed. He watched Arthur fall to his knees. He watched him stand, he watched him walk to the chamber of the court, and he watched him deliver the news. He did not leave his room that night, just stayed in the corner as Arthur refused to sleep. They played chess. He was awful at chess, but won all the same.

Just the two of them went hunting. They traveled farther than normal, all the way to a great lake. Arthur wished to fish after a night's rest. He went to collect the firewood for his master. He blinked and suddenly he was facing Arthur, holding up his hands and tripping over his trainers to get to him, ecstatic the time jump worked.

_I found you!_

Arthur pulled his head away from the ambush, panting, "Those are stolen memories!"

"They are not! They are mine! Look, it goes on!" The Professor grabbed his head again and shoved more images into his brain. "That's Gwen, that's your kingdom, that's Gaius, those are your knights." These images were true as he said, though some of their faces seemed aged in ways Arthur had never seen. "How could I possibly know such things?"

Arthur pulled away again and leapt behind the desk, putting it between them. "Magic."

"Magic is not an all encompassing answer, Arthur! It has limitations. If you won't believe me, you must believe this." The Professor turned to one of the many bookshelves, pulled a large, worn book off and slammed it on the table. "You asked me what I meant when I said we were in a play about the Knights of the Round Table to that cabbie. I'm sure that sounded familiar, yes? It should. It's you." He opened the book and pointed to a drawing inside, one that looked very familiar.

Clearly, this was a rendition of the round table Arthur had set up in his court, but that was just a vision. This table was still in construction.

The Professor pointed at it and slid the book the rest of the way under Arthur's nose. "This is a book on the study of the Arthurian legends. With the second purge -magic nearly wiped clean from our part of the Earth- many things were lost. Many people. There was no one to tell your story as truth. So it was told as fiction. There are many adaptations and the original stories have many details wrong but in a general sense, this is what we became. What you become. Legend.  I suppose that speaks true of your character. ”  The Professor paused and glanced down at the drawing, his breath catching on a snort.  “Not your facial hair. They truly thought you could grow a beard."

Arthur's eyes darted over the picture, reading the names of his knights listed beneath. He shook his head, "This is just a book of stories. Not fact."

"If you don't believe that, believe this-" The Professor pulled out another book and slammed it on top of the first. "History. You can study the evolution for yourself." When Arthur made no move to open the book, he sighed and shuffled towards the door. "Feel free to peruse all the books. I'll make sure the kids aren't setting everything on fire. Those curtains were ugly anyway. Victorian antiques, but ugly."

Arthur stared at the hallway for a long time, waiting for any form of attack.  When none came, he returned to the desk and continued rummaging through the drawers.  When all he found were papers listing gibberish and a half eaten apple, he flipped open the books in front of him. He skimmed the stories of the 'Arthurian Legends' and scoffed at it all. He had to constantly spin the book in order to catch the handwritten notes, made by Professor Ealdor. One note read, _the royal prat could not grow a beard to save his life._

The next page had a drawing of Lancelot and Guenevere in an embrace, looking nothing like themselves.  He slammed the book shut. It was absolute rubbish.

Then, he tried the book of history. Every page was a new form of nightmare.  It was too much. It could not be real. The things it suggested existed, the events that happened... they could not have. He did not believe a word the lying thing said.  

When it became clear the Professor was not returning anytime soon, he took another look around. There were spell books and weird objects in jars and other things on display that he could not place the origin of -one being the oddest magical box. He touched it and a light appeared. Scrawled across the box was a name that made no sense; 'em659rys '. Under that was a single word: 'password'. What would a box use a password for?

He tried to say a few things aloud, but nothing made a difference.

"Sorcerer."

"Magic."

"Pendragon."

"I'm a liar."

"Merlin."

Nothing worked.

After another lap around the room, he found himself drawn back to the mysterious door in the corner.

That would be when Professor Ealdor entered.  "So, do you believe me no- No." He sighed at the sight of Arthur trying to break in with his tiny knife. "No, of course. Why do you always have to be so stubborn? Not that I should have expected more. Princes and kings don't have a need to read more than treaties. This is probably the first book you've picked up in your life. Or you just have ADD."  He paused and hummed to himself.  "Actually...that's quite possible."

Arthur stepped back, refusing to feel guilty. "You showed me images from Merlin's mind. Drawings and books. They mean nothing to me. You could have stolen everything, made up this world and dragged me into it. Cast a spell on me. I could be home right now, hallucinating as I sleep. You could be killing me while you do so! I've heard of such tales!"

The Professor crossed his arms over his chest, "How can I make you believe me?"

"What you're asking me to believe is impossible."

The silence grew eerie.

The Professor looked older than ever, his shoulders slumping and his frown weighing down extra wrinkles. He walked slowly towards the door Arthur had been so interested in, mumbled a few strange words, and a handle started to glow.

Arthur took another few steps back and the Professor opened it, just enough to let himself inside. "Stay here," he commanded before exiting.

Arthur tried to open the door after him but it was pointless, locked again.

Only a few moments later, the Professor reentered, a box held tightly in both hands. With white knuckles, he carefully placed it on the desk atop the books.

"Images will not prove it to you, how about something real. This-" He opened the box and Arthur slowly looked inside. It was a bit of cloth. Hole ridden, brown, and covered in dust. It meant nothing to him. He was about to say as much when the Professor cut him off, "You gave this to me. I've kept it preserved for centuries. It's degraded but you can still make out the color in some spots. You said I needed a new one. You said my old one was only good for polishing. You gave me this one, with your crest on the inside." The Professor slowly folded back a corner and just visible under the layer of dust was the stitched pattern. "It's how I remembered the Pendragon likeness so exactly. Otherwise, I fear I may have forgotten. You'd be surprised what you can forget. The shade of someone's eyes, the curve of their lips..." Arthur felt the Professor's eyes lingering on him and looked away before such a stare could cause either one of them embarrassment. "You can even forget your own mother. Sometimes I try to remember what she sounded like. I never can."

Arthur remembered the exact moment he gave this to Merlin. Merlin truly did have need of a new one, always too attached to his old ones. It was just a spot of cloth.  Arthur had one cut from a garment that did not fit him anymore and someone hemmed the edges before he gave it to Merlin. He had no particular reason to give it to him, it was just a random thought, something he thought he might like. His smile was quite confirming in that. Merlin could always brighten the entire room with that smile.

This cloth though, it seemed so...different. Old and withered. "You could have made this."

"No, I couldn't have." The Professor carefully shut the box and slumped into his seat, his hands running through his hair and pulling at the back of his neck. He growled aloud, "Please don't question this. This is all I have left and if you don't believe me now... there is nothing I can do. Arthur, please," his voice broke as he begged, his eyes glossy with prickling tears. "Please, look at me. Really look at me. You have to feel it. Feel the connection between us. That has never faded. It can't."

Arthur shook his head. No. How could he be Merlin? Merlin wouldn't lie. He wouldn't keep something like this from him. He wouldn't... couldn't...no.

Then Arthur let his mind wander. If it were at all possible, at all, it would explain a few things about his servant. A servant that always managed to live through every battle, defeat death when it was knocking at his door. But if Merlin were such a thing, a sorcerer, why would he stay by a Pendragon's side?  It did not make sense.

Merlin was -is- too good for such subterfuge. He has a pure heart. This sorcerer, this Professor, he could not possibly match it.

The unshed tears fell into black stubble.

Arthur stood his ground. The likeness was uncanning, the way his lips twitched as more tears fell, the way his head dropped and his thumb circled his fingernails. It was just like Merlin. A large part of him wanted to lay a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, as he would his friend, and he watched as his hand floated up to do just that.

It was instinct, a gut feeling.

The Professor leaned into the touch and placed a shuddering hand on top of Arthur's. Then, the stranger did something truly strange. He slowly tapped his thumb three times and stroked it down Arthur's finger, landing on his ring.

The memory of Merlin’s voice rang in his head explaining it was something his mother had taught him, a way to count the breaths he took, because after three, everything would become clear once again. Three was a magic number.

How much of one's identity needed to be stolen before one became that person?

Arthur found his gut questioning the possibility of such a thing, but as soon as he allowed the memory to surface, the feeling inside grew. The awareness, the sense of comfort and trust that he had felt with this man from the start, the inexpiable loyalty and protectiveness, it overtook him.  The heat that warmed his chest spread at the sight of those wiggling, ridiculous ears. The babbling, the tripping over a misplaced cup, the small smile at seeing a hidden knife, the insolence...  

Arthur stared at the finger tracing his ring and gasped, "Merlin?"

Merlin snapped up quickly, his eyes sparkling with new hope. "Yes."

There he was, as clear as day. That brightness was back and he was young once more. This was the Merlin he knew. This was Merlin. And if this was Merlin, it wasn't the Merlin he knew at all.

Arthur ripped his hand away and tripped back to the wall. "You've had magic all this time?"

"Arthur," Merlin stood slowly and held up his hands. "I can explain."

Intense heat consumed any traces of warmth and red bombarded the corners of his vision. "Take me home. You said you would take me home.  Now do it. I don't believe any of this. Take me home!"

Merlin's smile fell instantly.  Shadows slapped into the groves of his features as his brow dipped over stormy eyes and his teeth ground, the air cracking in the space between them.  "As you wish." He reached out before Arthur understood what was happening. The world swirled into a blur of colors and when they righted again he fell to the ground. A ground made of dirt and not of stone.

"Where are we?" Arthur asked. It was a forest of some kind, dense, with large chunks of rock protruding from the ground.

"This is the castle of Camelot." Merlin said, stepping onto one of the boulders. "Where it once stood."

Arthur gasped. He could make out some of the hills here and there but other than that, it was unrecognizable. "It's in ruins."

"Worse than that. It's gone. And this-" Arthur felt the world spin again as a blur of color passed in front of him. He did not fall this time, but was shocked by a loud, angry noise from another 'car' of some sort passing behind them. Merlin grabbed him and flung him towards a small body of water. "This is the lake I found you in the past. The lake where I let you down. Here is where I held you as you died in my arms. It seems right to see you leave here again."

Arthur glared at the tower in the distance, refusing to glance at his servant, his fists clenching. "Do it. I want to go back."

"Stubborn," he growled. "I have one last thing to show you. Then you can decide."

The world blurred again, but this time, it faded into complete darkness. Merlin lifted a hand and a spot of orange light erupted from his palm. Arthur snarled as he tried to find some sort of bearing under his wobbly legs. "Where are we now?"

"The Crystal Caves. The crystals were taken, sold, traded, made into jewelry. Only a few remain, buried. I can bring one up for you. I'll show you what I saw."

The ground trembled as Merlin held out his palm. Two severe circles lit his cat eyes yellow until the glow traveled through his fingertips and into the flames in his hand. Tendrils of strands whipped through the air, stretching down until they hit the dark earth. The ground shook harder, dirk kicking off the ceiling and spraying into Arthur's eyes. Then, a blue light overtook the room and a single crystal, the size of his thumb, rose from the dirt and landed in Merlin's hand.

Merlin thrust it towards Arthur’s chest and waited until Arthur tentatively picked it up. More images abruptly invaded his mind. They all moved quickly and some were fragmented, but a few things remained vividly clear.

There were many children chanting -a few faces vaguely familiar. They were standing around a large tub of black water and the water started to ripple, splashing over the sides. Out popped a sword, one very familiar to Arthur.  It was his own.

The Pendragon ring sat on Arthur's finger, wrapped around a glass. It was tapping, scraping, then the glass shattered.

There was a warped, rounded image of a village -structures raised tall like the ones he saw in this world. A fountain made of many small statues of fairies with small wings stood in the center, people walking and biking in the sun around it. Then it was all gone. Fire ripped through the sky and everything crumbled to the ground. Smoke rippled through the air, a shadowy figure seen through the mist. A silhouette of a man with a sword.

Merlin stood in the middle of the school under the great library. Horror and shock crossed his features as he watched two Arthur's glaring at each other. One flew across the floor, his back crashing against the base of the waterfall. The other stood tall with golden eyes that faded to blue.

That blue took over everything. It was all blue. A large blue body of water, getting darker as wave after wave swirled together. It moved fast as they passed over it. Too fast.

Arthur could see his own face again. He stood on the edge of a large cliff, dressed in the armor he wore before he was taken. The water beat and sprayed beneath him, the white waves threatening to engulf. Then there was a light, a great flash, and he fell back. The last image he saw was his own neck, twisted too far around, unbearably white bone peaking through his skin, before he fell off the edge and into the water below.

Back in the cave he dropped the crystal and panted, "What was that?"

"A few events that have already happened but the future mostly. Or at least, one version of it."  Merlin kicked the dirt beneath them.  "These things are hard to read. It could mean a number of things, but it won't change."

"Then what is the point in bringing me here if it won't change? That was me! That was- Did I die? Do I die?! And you brought me here anyway?!"

Merlin threw up his hands.  "The images won't change, what they mean might. It wasn't you or maybe it was. I don't know! But believe me or not, people are still in danger. There is a part of you out there, hurting them."

"If you're trying to guilt me-"

"I'm not trying to guilt you! I'm saying you are the only one that can stop it. I can explain everything if you'll stay here. With me. Just stay. Please, just stay.  Stay with me! Don't leave me again!"  

Merlin's voice rang loud, echoing, until the silence returned.

Arthur spoke slow and low, "And how did you come to be, Merlin? Why would I trust you now? Have you lied to me all this time? Are you even human?" The blue light at their feet threw shadows across his face that made it look as if he were not. "Did you use magic to live forever as that child said? Over a thousand years?!"

Merlin stumbled back as if hit.  "Use magic to- why would I do that? Forever is nothing when you're alone."

"I don't know, because you're magic! That's what sorcerers do. Change the laws of nature because they can."

"Do you honestly believe that? Do you believe I would do this to myself? To watch everyone and everything I've ever loved die while I watched? The only time I ever get to see them again is based on a stupid prophecy that never comes true. To only catch glimpses of them when I'm near death myself, unable to cross over to the other side. Living every day for the next because that's all I can do anymore. Hoping to see you again. And then doing it. Actually seeing you and you being wrong. Turning out wrong! Do you know what that feels like? Do you know how I feel right now, seeing you here after centuries? Knowing you would hate me and having to face you like this…”  Merlin’s mouth hung open, shocked at all he just revealed, before stepping back and shaking his head.  “I thought I could do this but I can't."

"Where are you going?" Arthur called after him.

"I need some air."

"What?! You're not going anywhere!"

"Neither are you!”  Merlin swirled back, fury shifting his dark features, a terrifying magical creature.  “We're stuck here for a few hours. I'm angry and drained. So sit your princely butt down and think about what you're doing, who you're doing it for. Our people are out there.  Your people’s children.  Think about someone other than yourself for a change."

Merlin left him in the cave with that fading blue crystal as his only source of light. He glanced at it in his peripheral vision, afraid he would see the images again if he looked straight on.

As ridiculous as it was to acknowledge Merlin was some sort of time traveling sorcerer that brought him into this hell of a future, he had already listened to his gut and accepted it.  That meant accepting all Merlin said as true.  Including his people being in peril.  Because no matter how badly Merlin messed up, there was no way Arthur could leave him alone to fix the mess if it meant the children of Camelot would suffer.  Those hills he could barely recognize and the degraded tower in that infamous lake were still his land.  The people of his people deserved to be saved from magic.  Gwen could handle the kingdom until his return.  Everyone would be safe in his time.

Above his rage and confusion. Above the hurt of finding out his most trusted friend lied to him all this time. Above not knowing a thing about what actually happened or what world he was thrust into. Above seeing another version of himself with what appeared to be magic. Above seeing himself die. Above all else, Arthur felt one thing more: a core sense of duty.

Arthur’s sigh echoed through the small cave as he found his way out.  Merlin was just outside, lying down in a clearing, not paying him any attention. "Merlin."

"Yes?" he grumbled. 

"I'll help you."

"You will?" Merlin spun with an incredulous expression, red-rimmed eyes blinking furiously.

"I want to make something perfectly clear. I do not trust you. Nor will I ever. You've lied to me. For years. You've used magic-"

"To save your life. Only for-"

Arthur cut him off with a raise of the hand, "I don't want to hear it. I am going to help because I want to help these people. If this is some form of my kingdom, then they are my people and I have a duty to protect them. This all seems quite... insane. But I will try and believe what I can. Just not you."

Merlin's head hung low and he nodded, "I couldn't ask for more."

"Tell me how I can help."

Merlin spun away, his back colliding with the grass on the hill, his eyes gazing up at him. "Can we just sit for a moment? Just for a moment. Sit and just not talk." He tapped the ground next to him. "Please?"

Arthur did sit, but not next to him. He leaned against a wayward tree and watched Merlin watch the sky.

Merlin, the sorcerer.

All this time, and he didn't know. All this time and Merlin never told him. Of course he understood why, but Merlin should have known. After all, the funny thing to Arthur was, even after he understood Merlin was -is- magic, he never once went for the knife in his boot. Even sitting and staring at him, full of opportunity, he did not draw it. He still felt safe around this man, this stranger.

He seethed and built up arguments, ready to explode the moment Merlin tried to defend himself, but as angry as he was, he had to wonder how Merlin did it. A thousand years was a very long, incomprehensible amount of time. If what he said in the cave was true, then those hidden wrinkles explained themselves.

A thousand years and his eyes still gleamed when he found a shape in the cloud.

A thousand years and still a giant _girl._


	7. Chapter 7

It was a normal day. At least, what normal had come to mean for someone like Merlin. Things always went up and down, year after year. Time moved like that, in sections. Sometimes it was good and sometimes…sometimes it was not. This decade was going pretty well, but Merlin lived long enough to know when the signs of depressions were settling back in.

Another day, another to follow. Again and again. Forever.

He really tried not to linger on the oblivion, keeping himself busy with projects and new knowledge and creating new relationships, but sometimes he could not help wondering as he had so many times before. When would it end?

Long ago he realized it was better to live another day rather than give into the ache and the delirium that followed. Some days were easier to live and others –the dull, monotony hard to ignore. Everyone has a pattern. Merlin is no different. He is only human… slightly.

The students help as they have in the past but only so much. After teaching for a few centuries little shocked or surprised him anymore. What he has to look forward to is their shock and their surprise. So he goes. Because it's what he needs to do.

"Try and be a bit more clear."

"I am being clear!" Zach complained.

"That's not quite right." No one was quite getting it right.  It was just one of those days -something that took quite the meaning with Merlin.

Zach had always been a bit too nosy for his own good. He asked too many questions. Not quite like Ryan, though. No, Ryan definitely asked the wrong questions and too many of them on top of that. Zach, he asked the right questions. It helped him in his lessons, but it was also dangerous. Too curious for his own good. It was almost admirable. He never failed to come at Merlin's weakest moment to ask him about his past.

Merlin never told students about himself. He found people would not accept him if they knew he was going to live forever, as if his life were their burden to take. Zach was persistent and found him on the right day. That day. A day like any other, but a day that had worn him down to nothing. A day where all he could do was stare into the corner of his office and trap himself in his never-ending thoughts, ones that always led back to the same place.

Apologies. What-ifs. Different endings.

Zach came to ask why the Professor had stomped off in the middle of a lesson. He was mad and embarrassed and wanted an answer, so when he came storming into Merlin's office he was too energized to notice the look Merlin wore, to notice how his screaming wasn't even registering. At some point in Merlin's silence, it must have clicked.

"Well, you've got quite the look on you. Professor? Professor Ealdor? Can you hear me? Professor?"

Merlin shook himself out of it, a small smile forced into his apology.  "I'm sorry Zachary. I wasn't listening. I shouldn't have left you like that. Give me a minute and I'll be back out to teach you what a proper long 'o' sounds like."

Zach tried to smile but even he could sense it was not right. He walked to the door and lingered a moment too long. He shut it behind himself and slumped into the chair opposite Merlin, inviting himself to put his feet up on the desk. Merlin did not even try to tell him to stop. That must have registered as well because Zach said, "Whoa, you could use a pint."

"I'm fine, Zachary."

"Really? Cus I've been working on that conjuring spell." He winked.  "I bet I could whip us up a glass."

"I don't need-"

Zachary was already at it, saying the spell to perfection. Merlin was about to protest but he could not resist Zachary's big, round, green eyes begging him to take a sip.

"Thank you," Merlin said, but Zach did not leave.

"Had a bad day, Professor?"

"I've had worse."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. I'm fine."

"You know," Zach took a sip of his own creation –and promptly set it back down. "I had a girl once, believe it or not, and she said the exact same thing whenever she needed to talk. Not that you're a girl but…”  He cleared his throat and shrugged.  “I know we're British, or at least I am –you won't tell me what you are. And I know we have this stiff upper lip tradition going but it might help to break a rule or two. Sounds like a good rule to break, eh?"

Merlin smirked. "Your fondness for breaking rules could be quite troubling, considering that this entire institution is based on rules, lies, and secrets."

"You've got nothing to worry about. Those rules wouldn't be fun to break. I wouldn't want you on my bad side, now would I?" He wiggled his brows and slumped in his chair, throwing his hands behind his head and fixing his wavy, unruly hair.

"You remind me a bit of someone I once knew."  Merlin smiled at the memory.  "A long time ago. His name was Gwaine. He had a fondness for carrots or apples or something like that. I forget now. It's been too long."

"So why don't you visit him?"

"Hm. If only it were that simple."

"What? He live in another country or something?"

"He's gone." How many times had Merlin needed to say those words? The pity that followed just rolled off like water.

"Oh. Sorry about that. I forget sometimes how old you say you are. Or how old we think you are.”  Zach’s shoulders shimmied playfully.  “You know we have a bet running?"

"I know about it.”  Merlin chuckled.  “I can tell you that one of you is getting very close to spot on." That was a lie but the kids did not need to know.

"My bet is two-hundred. Ryan seems to think you're from the BCE era.”  He poked Merlin’s computer with the toe of his boot.  “You're not going to tell me are you?"

"Probably not."

"Dang. I could use that fifty pounds."

"You'll just have to get a job."

"Suppose. Wanna write me a recommendation? And a CV? And lie about it?" Zach caught the genuine smile Merlin cracked and continued, "What jobs have you had?"

"Many."

"You've very cryptic, you know that?"

"Something you learn."

"You had a teacher?"

"A dragon."

"A dragon? Oh shove off. You're having a go at me." Merlin stared at Zach until his jaw dropped to the floor. "You're not? An actual dragon? An actual bloody dragon!  Does that have anything to do with the dragon out in the lobby?"

Merlin could feel his words drag, "That's the Pendragon symbol."

"Pendragon? What does that mean?"

Merlin’s eyes drifted, lost in memories.  "A lot."

Zach hesitated for only a moment.  "Sir, I know you don't usually talk about yourself, and I know I always ask too much, but I took a psychology class before I dropped out of Uni and I know as much to say it ain't good to hold all that stuff in. Especially if Ryan's winning the bet. That's too long to keep to yourself."

Maybe it was the day, maybe it was because Zach reminded him of Gwaine, maybe it was something in the conjured beer. Whatever it was, Merlin opened up that day. He told him everything. Well, not everything –that would have taken days of talking and far too much personal information. He only told the highlights, the big events, where it all began, the love won and lost over time.

That was his mistake.

Zach was just a kid. A kid that wanted to help. So, he told the others, just a bit, but enough. The kids wanted to help their teacher. That was all.

They paved the road of the future with good intentions.

A bit of time passed and Merlin did feel better for having told someone –something he had not done since meeting Mary- but the days still rolled on and he was not his normal self, not normal how the others knew him to be. Zach suggested Merlin take some time off work –needing it after decades without a holiday.

Merlin agreed to it eventually –once all the kids started complaining that they needed time off as well. After making sure the students would not flood his library and that those who still lived with their families had given ample warning to their parents or guardians, he made plans to visit the land formally known as Camelot.

It had not changed very much since his last visit. A few more trees here and there, the ones he left behind bigger, the bushes bushier. It was still home.

He stayed for a week in his old home, one of the many. This one was still hidden in the caves, beneath the trees around the rubble near the lake where his king lay. He had ample view from the cutout in the side of the hill, magic aiding the protection of his elaborate, hidden home.  

It helped, a bit, he told himself. To take a break and remember why he was still living.

But that was a lie. It wasn't helping at all, sitting there, staring at that godforsaken tower. It only made him more aware of the loneliness settling in his chest.  He went home early.

Life had a cruel sense of timing.

The moment he walked back into the library, to the home he had known for the past century, he could tell something was wrong.  Where were the kids? It was far too quiet.  His magic was tugging on his insides and he followed the invisible pull towards the back of the school. The moment he opened the door he could hear the chanting.

Illuminated by rows of candles, every one of his students were standing around a great basin of black water. They all held hands and focused on the tub as the chanted in unison.

“Hrycg fram ærdéaþ.  Arýpan ælíf.  Blæd.  Wit bearntéam dóm. Arýpan ælíf-”

Sam was one in the circle. She noticed him and gasped, breaking the chain, "Professor?"

She looked terrified but turned back without explaining. No one else turned around. They all continued to chant together, getting louder, a spell Merlin did not know –and that was very rare.

“Arýpan ábeþecian. Arýpan ælíf-”

 It sounded like a resurrection spell, mixed with a locator spell. Either way, that was very dark magic thick in the air of his home.  He cried out into the suffocating room, asking them what they were doing but they did not stop.

The water churned along with Merlin's gut and he screamed. "Stop! Stop right now!" He tried to reach out, grabbing at Sam's shoulder, Zachary's too, but neither of them budged. No one would budge. They were all enchanted, staring at the water.

A harsh spike of pain suddenly zipped through his chest.  He was thrown to the ground, crashing into the candles behind him, sparks alighting spots on his shirt before he spun against the stones. He tried a spell, directed once at the basin and then at the kids, but nothing happened. The protective magic he had long soaked into every stone was muted, unable to answer his call.

It was too late.

The water broke.

Through the pitch black ripples shone the bright steel of a sword – a sword that rang many bells in Merlin's mind. He dragged his gaze over every inch of metal, down to the hand holding it up. A strong hand dripping with water.

It couldn't be.

The figure rose from the beneath, armor and all.

Merlin gasped at Arthur –his Arthur- his lost Arthur standing before him, confused with his sword held at the ready, until his eyes fell on Merlin crouching before him.

Merlin's heart thudded loudly in his chest and joy was all he could sense, not the undertones he should have paid attention to. His guilt and shock was blocking everything, he couldn't sense that something was missing, that the blazing connection he shared with this man –the one that joined their very souls- was gone. All he focused on was the connection between their eyes and the warmth it brought to his heart.

Arthur's lips tilted into a smile, "Merlin, my friend. It's been a long time."

That first night, they stayed up talking for hours and hours on end. Arthur did not remember much of anything useful. He remembered dying and a bright light but nothing beyond that –so he said. He remembered his former life in perfect clarity, including the things Merlin confessed when it came to magic. He was quite accepting of it, just as he had been right before he passed. Arthur was actually quite accepting of everything, including the modern world and all its technological achievements. That should have set off more warning bells, but Merlin ignored those too. Arthur was back, living in his home, safe.

That was all that mattered.

The kids had a good yelling at, messing with magic on such a large scale had consequences. No one just took someone out of the land of the dead, into the land of the living, and expected it to work well. Of course, his lecture would have come across better if he was not smiling so hard the entire time –Arthur in the back of the room grinning up at him. Apparently, Arthur thought it was hysterical that Merlin had students.

"Really? You? A teacher? They'll just let anyone do that now'a'days, won't they Professor?"

Arthur was fumbling through Merlin's many things as he teased, asking questions here and there about what something was and its function.

"I guess so," Merlin smiled. "And before you ask, that's a sponge. We use it to clean dishes. Something you're going to have to learn how to do."

"Me? Clean?”  Arthur threw the wet sponge at Merlin's’ face.  “Isn't that why I have you?"

The world, time, life, felt right again. Having Arthur there to bicker with made all those centuries alone disappear, the void in his chest filled by that cocky smirk.  He no longer had to wait for another horrible war to kickstart a prophecy that had already been fulfilled.  Arthur would be by his side through it all.

If only that could have lasted.

It started out well.  Merlin invited Arthur to stay with him at the library in his home inside the school.

Watching Arthur's transition from the old world to the new was entertaining to say the least. He grew frustrated at the simplest of tasks, such as taking the tube or ordering take away.

"They're all staring at me," Arthur grumbled.

"No they're staring at me. Wondering why someone so put together is hanging out with the idiot who can't order a coffee."

"There are too many."

"For the love of-" Merlin pushed him aside and smiled at the barista. "Hi. I'll have a large black coffee and he will have a small mocha."

"Why do I get a small?"

"You won't like it anyway."

"I may."

"Really?" Merlin waited until their orders came and stuck it under Arthur's nose. "Try."

Arthur could barely hold in the grimace as he got his first taste of the bitter coffee mixed with the sugary syrup.

"You like it then?" Merlin teased as Arthur nodded sharply, holding his cup an arm's length away. Merlin never would have bet he'd learn to love the stuff –needing it every single morning after getting out of bed.

The sound of laughter drew their attention as the barista watched them. "You two are cute together."

"Cute together?" Arthur asked.

Merlin quickly said, "He's too young for me," and shoved him along to go shopping for more clothes before she could comment further.

Merlin followed Arthur everywhere, much to the king's dismay. Merlin did not want him out of his sight. Not for a moment. Every second he was gone was an opportunity for his mind to think it was all a trick.

Merlin even left his bedroom door open at night. He had a view of the room where Arthur slept that way. He could see when the light was on and when Arthur decided to sleep. Electricity was one innovation Arthur happily accepted, among others, like plumbing.

Arthur shadowed every one of Merlin's teachings. He watched in awe at the powerful spells Merlin performed –perhaps because Merlin was showing off some.  He did not truly need to call a thunderstorm in the middle of the classroom.  

Merlin took pride every time a student managed to perform something well or exceed expectations. He could see Arthur's smile from across the room and it drove him to try harder, a motivation he had sorely been lacking.

On a day where the students lounged around, content with the work they finished, Arthur asked the question that changed everything.

"I don't know why I was brought here. I know the children did the spell but that doesn't explain why. The prophecy you spoke of, it said I would come back when Camelot needed me. I need to know how she needs me. I need to know my destiny, to find my place in this new world. If I am not king, I need to know what I am. Can you show me? Can you tell me of your life? I need to know everything's that happened since my passing. Maybe it will help determine my future. Can you help me?"

Merlin spoke many nights about his life, most of those conversations ending in one of them nodding off on the sofa. Once Merlin found himself talked out he showed Arthur the history section of the library. He gave him access to all the books and to Google.

Merlin wished he had Google back when he was the one doing all the research for Arthur. Saving his life would have been so much easier.

Arthur still asked many questions and Merlin was happy to answer –even the students helped him when Merlin was busy. They all built a good relationship –something Merlin was happy to be surrounded with. He could actually see living his life this way for a long time to come.

At least, that was what he thought.

"This-" Arthur hastily threw a book over the one Merlin had been reading.

"A gun?" Merlin asked as he stared at the illustration in his lap.

"Where can I get one?"

"You want a gun?"

"They are the new weapons of this era. Should I not be armed?"

"People don't just carry around guns Arthur. Well…maybe in Texas. But you can't just carry something like that around here. Besides, you have Excalibur."

"Do you expect me to carry around a sword?"

Merlin shifted uncomfortably, pushing the illustration away.  "Why do you need protection anyway? Are you expecting to get attacked?"

"Fine." Arthur huffed. "I'll figure it out myself."

That conversation left a funny taste in Merlin's mouth. It was not the first time his interactions with Arthur had gone down a sour path and it would not be the last.

"Your magic," Arthur started as they ate their dinner. "Why don't you use it?"

"I am using it. I'm-"

"Teaching children. Yes. But why don't you do more? You're in many of the books I've read. You're supposed to be the greatest wizard of them all."

"Books overstate things."

"Are they overstating?"

"Well, not always, but-"

"Then why not do more?"

"Because you already read what happened to people with magic throughout history. The Druids went extinct for a reason. No one openly practices anymore for the same reason."

"But you can't die."

"That's not the point."

Arthur continued to pester him on this point for many weeks to come. He read book after book and shoved every war and global disaster in Merlin's face. "If I had powers like yours I would have saved the world, not hidden from it."

“Some things are meant to pass!  I cannot stop every disaster, no matter how much I would like to.  If I feel something can be stopped, like a hurricane or bombing, I will stop it.  I can save a town, but some wars must be fought.”  

“Sounds like an excuse.”

Merlin's gut felt as though it were filled with plenty of hard, sharp stones. The giddiness dissolved into worry. Something was different. Something was off. Something he could not put his finger on.

He told himself it was because Arthur was not the perfect king he remembered him to be, that Merlin lived a long life and some details from his past could be skewed, that Arthur used to be a right prat and maybe death could bring back some of those qualities.

It wasn't always bad. Merlin only felt this way when Arthur asked about using his magic on a global scale, when they argued most. Other than that, they were as normal as they could be. They laughed and joked and talked. Normal…until all of that changed.

It was the night of the Spring Equinox. They were drinking in the study, a fire roaring in the background. Merlin was telling the tale of a boy he once knew, someone that reminded him of Arthur. Someone he used in order to make the pain disappear. It was during World War One. He jumped between stories of meeting him off the battlefield and tending to the wounded as a physician and hardly noticed Arthur staring at the fire or the golden glow that flickered in his eyes.  Merlin would have continued not to notice if the glass hadn't shattered in Arthur's hands.

"Are you alright?!" Merlin jumped up and rushed to find something to stop any bleeding.

"Fine," Arthur smiled as blood dripped from his fingers.

"That's not fine." Merlin applied a napkin to the wound and looked up in confusion.

Arthur's eyes were wild, a manic grin throwing the shadows of firelight across his face.  "No, Merlin, I'm fine. Better than fine."

"Are you running a fever?" Merlin checked, but the only warmth came from the fire.

"You don't understand," Arthur chuckled and gripped Merlin's hands in his own, trapping him in place. "I'm magical."

"Alright," Merlin drew out his statement with a frown, eying the bottle of whiskey they had been drinking.

"You don't get it, you idiot!" Arthur shot up and glared at the bottle.

Merlin was definitely confused now. He looked between Arthur and the bottle and back again, his stomach reeling with anxiety. Something was off in the air around them. "Has the bottle done something wrong?"

A moment later the bottle broke, sending shards of glass and liquid over every piece of paper on Merlin's desk, the computer even a victim in it all.

"Did you just-" Merlin gasped looking between the mess and Arthur. "You did magic. But- but- but- you didn't say a spell or- or- or-"

"I know."

"But-"

"I know!"

"How?"

"I don't know."

"You don't have magic.”  Merlin tried to pull his hands back but Arthur’s bloody grip was strong.  “You weren't born with it. You can't use magic unless you say a spell. Did you say one in your head?"

"I don't know any spells."

"Then this is impossible."

"But I did it. Maybe I brought it back with me. I don't know. Does it matter? I have it now." Arthur smiled and Merlin gaped like a fish out of water. "Teach me. I want to know everything."

"I want to know how you have this. Bringing it back from the other side…it doesn't sound natural."

"Maybe it's my destiny. Merlin, please.”  Arthur lifted their hands together and begged with wide eyes, “I was brought here for a reason. I need to know what that reason is. Don't you remember what you said? When you were young you grappled with your destiny for years. I'm trying to find my path as well."

Merlin's eyes dropped to the blood dripping down his wrist.  "My destiny ended poorly."

"You did everything you could."

Merlin felt a wayward tear slip down his cheek, his knees starting to quake as he leaned back against the desk. "I still couldn't save you."

Arthur slid out a hand and brushed it against his arm. "I'm here now."

"The Once and Future King. With magic."

Arthur squeezed with a painful grip, glancing towards the fire.  "There is no kingdom. I need to find another way. Help me find that way. What was it you told me? We're two sides of the same coin. We belong together, helping each other."

Merlin sighed and squeezed back gently.  "Alright."

Merlin taught him everything he knew, giving him plenty of spell books and much homework to do.

"You've got to catch up with the rest of the class, Your Highness," Ryan teased.

Arthur did not fare too well to begin with. Merlin could not recognize the magic he had, it was different, bitter. He dared not say the word dark but it seemed fitting. Even Arthur's eyes turned a meek shade of yellow whenever he cast a spell –disappearing into an off shade of blue almost the same instant.

Of all the books and internet searches he tucked into, nothing could explain Arthur's condition. It was just something Merlin would have to accept. Arthur had magic. Magic that came from nowhere.

Of course, Merlin could not accept that. Arthur was getting progressively better, excelling at a faster pace than he ever expected. A large part of him was proud –smug even. But he worried. He did more than just research. He reached out to connections he had made over the years, even speaking to a couple oracles he met through his travels. The oracles could not find reason for Arthur's magic, but they did warn him of a troubled future.

Merlin took their warning to heart. He felt odd about leaving Arthur behind, working with the students on spells while he stepped out to travel for answers. Merlin lied to Arthur about it. Something he did not like to do but in his gut, he knew it was right. That worried him more than any warning an oracle could give.

Transportation spells were tricky but Merlin had much practice over his long years. He could travel long distances and bring a person or two if needed. Even his students were able to do it with the help of certain runes worn on their person.  It was exhausting but better than taking the train.

He popped into the opening of the Crystal Caves. The entrance had grown over with weeds since the last time he came.  Cryptic messages about a future he could not change were not his favorite thing.

He never expected to see the future he did.

Arthur rising from the black. Glass shattering. Fire. Mirror images of Arthur fighting each other. Blue rippling below. Arthur dying, again.

"No," Merlin gasped into the pocket of air. He could feel it in his bones. He knew exactly what this future held. It was all about Arthur, the Arthur that came back. He knew that Arthur was going to turn on him, that he was going to kill all those people. That he was going to die. Taken from this world. Again.

"No! That's wrong. You're wrong! No!"  The stone exploded into dust in his hands.

Merlin snapped back to the library an instant later, breathily charging into the room where Arthur stood. "What are you planning?!"

The students all stopped in shock –staring with mouths open. It was not very often that they heard Merlin yell.

It was the lack of surprise on Arthur's part that sealed all of Merlin's doubts. It was real. All of it was real.

"Planning?”  Arthur smiled sweetly.  “Professor, do you think I'm planning against you?"

"I saw it, Arthur. I saw a glimpse of what's to come. You are the cause. That much I know."

"Good.”  Arthur threw his hands on his hips, as if taking charge of his court.  “I should be the cause. Something needs to be.  It's clear you won't do anything."

Merlin was gobsmacked.  "So you have magic now and you think that gives you a right over the people that don't?”  When Arthur did nothing but stare, Merlin’s chest exploded, tearing up his insides, and leaving him a quivering mess.  “You are the people your father was trying to have wiped from the earth."

"I have power and the right to lead!”  Arthur swept forth, looking for all the world like a red cape should be flaring behind him, and not in nothing more than a t-shirt and jeans.  “I can help these people. Help this world. I led Camelot into a reign of peace, who's to say I can't do that for the world?"

Merlin shook his head, his face crumpling.  "Not like this."

"Can't you see what I do? I understand you now, Merlin. In a way I never have before. I see you for who you are. I see what a brave, loyal, powerful person you are. You should not be hiding in the shadows. Loneliness has warped your mind. You think you deserve this.”  Arthur threw up his hands, gesturing to the cave Merlin had hidden himself in.  “No. You deserve your destiny. Our destiny. Where we rule together."

"By what, taking over the world?"

"By saving it."

Merlin stomped forward, thunder in his voice.  "You're the one that's warped, Arthur! Something is different about you. I couldn't put my finger on it. You're not you. You're not my Arthur."

"I am!”  Arthur yelled back, lightning in his eyes, dark magic clouding the air.  “I just see more clearly now than I ever have before. I thought you would appreciate that. Magic should be used, not chastised. I plan to _use_ mine."

"And what is your magic?”  Merlin struggled to pull his magic up from the earth, panting as he kept Arthur’s cloud of growing darkness in check.  “How did you get it?"

"I told you I don't know."  Arthur's eyes burned yellow, the dark magic fighting Merlin's back into the dust and smothering the floor.

Merlin recoiled from the man, not truly his king, his mouth falling open in shock. "I can't trust you."

"Funny,” Arthur mocked, “There was a time where I said the same to you. You'll see."

"See what? What precisely are you planning to do?"

"In time you will know."

"From what I've seen it will be too late. I won't let you hurt anyone, Arthur."

Violence flashed in Arthur’s eyes.  "And I won't let my kingdom fall to pieces!"

"You either stop now or I stop you." Merlin's voice lowered dangerously. "They brought you into this world but I can put you back where you belong."

Arthur took a step back, tilted his head, and slid into a delighted smile, his eyes pinching with put upon pity and his lips curling to expose a lashing tongue.  He stepped close enough to whisper so only Merlin could hear, "Could you really? Could you really do that to me? I seem to remember the last time you killed me you held me in your arms and begged for me not to die."

"I- I didn’t-"

"Kill me?”  Arthur’s magic soaked hand snaked through the shreds of Merlin’s golden barrier and slipped over Merlin’s quaking cheek, keeping their glowing eyes locked.  “Couldn't you have stopped Morgana sooner? Couldn't you have killed Mordred before he thrust that sword into me? Couldn't you have stopped that entire battle with more than just lightning bolts? If you face facts, you can see that I died because of you. Haven't you been blaming yourself this entire time? Well, congratulations.”  Arthur’s hand wrenched back from Merlin’s face, leaving ice in its wake, and pushing his chin down.  “I'm blaming you too. Do you really think you can kill me again?"

Merlin was dumbstruck. He stood with his mouth half open, hot tears falling down his cheeks and dropping onto the cold ground below. He was frozen as he watched Arthur walk past him, slowly making his way to the door, talking over his shoulder as he went.

"You have power Professor, you're just too weak to use it." He turned and called to all the gaping students. "For any of you who wish to see a world where magic actually helps, were we can use it without fear, where we can live our lives in a world worth living -Come with me. I promise to lead you into a better world. A world where magic _is_ the answer."

Merlin could not even begin to explain Arthur's meaning to the students. He was tongue tied as he watched a few of his pupils scrambling after Arthur.  To his surprise, Zachary was one of them –throwing an apologetic look his way before bounding up the stairs and exiting with the rest.

When they were gone, Merlin collapsed onto the floor. He couldn't move. He felt the remaining students asking him what happened but he couldn't answer. He was stuck.

“Professor?” Olivia called, her warm hand covering the cold spot on his cheek, moving to check for his pulse.  “He’s breathing, he’s alive.  Professor, I’m going to turn you into the recovery position.  Sam, help me move him.”

“Should we call 999?” Johnathan asked, pulling on his beanie.

“No,” Ryan interrupted.  “Can’t exactly get an ambulance down here, can we?”

“He’ll be alright,” Olivia assured, glancing towards where the other students had left.

“Whatever you say, nurse.” Ryan muttered, biting her nails.

“He will,” Sam said gravely.  She leaned over and whispered, “Sweofet.”

It felt like hours before he woke and could face facts, just like Arthur said.  Arthur came back wrong.

Camelot was too involved.  It would be Wales, Britain, the UK, and beyond. The destruction in that vision was clear. He could feel the fear of the people, feel the determination radiating off Arthur's silhouette. Arthur was mad. He saw a world where magic ruled over all, him leading the pack. For that, he would need to conquer the world. Merlin had no doubt he was capable. But by what means?

Merlin explained everything to the students he had left. They had a right to know what was going to happen. They had a right to understand why he was sending them home to their families. He could not both teach and stop Arthur.

"But that's not fair," Sam spoke out of turn, very unlike her. "Sorry, sir. It's just, it's our fault. We brought him here. We're the ones that caused this."

"Yeah," Ryan tagged on. "And it's not like many of us have homes to go back to anyway. I like it here. I'm not leaving."

"Professor," Johnathan spoke. "If what you say is true, why send us home? Why not use us? We want to help. I don't wanna see your buddy go mental like that, but if he is, then we need to help. You don't need to do this alone."

"Zach and the others-" Sam said, glancing at Olivia, "-they don't understand everything. They haven't heard what you told us. They don't know the king's full plan. If they did, they would come back. Every one of us loves you Professor. We appreciate all you do for us. They do too. They just heard about a world where they could use magic at will and that's all. The king spoke of it when you weren't around, many times. He put fantasies in their heads. You can replace those fantasies with the truth."

"It will be dangerous," Merlin attempted to ward them off but they just kept coming back for more.

"Sounds like my kinda deal," Ryan smirked.

"It's dangerous not to do something," Olivia said, checking her mobile for the second time in the past minute, her fingers flying across the screen. "We need a plan."

"But what?" Sam asked.

Merlin stared at them all as they started to talk, each brainstorming their own idea and building off others. It was strange, to see all of this. Usually Merlin had to save the day by himself. He wasn't used to having help, let alone from kids. Then again, he was younger than most of these children when he was fighting to save his kingdom.

"Alright," Sam spoke for them all. "Professor, do you have the king's mobile number?"

Merlin managed to talk Arthur into coming back to the library under the ruse that he wanted to speak diplomatically, and have a chance to speak to the children that followed him. Arthur agreed, but more so he could try to convince Merlin of his logic.

They met in the lobby of the underground school. Arthur brought the students with him, just as promised. They met at opposite ends, the grounds feeling more like a battlefield than it ever had before.

There, Merlin called to the students. He told them what he knew, that Arthur was planning a world filled with magic, but that it was a world stained in blood. Arthur let him talk and finish, picking up at the end.

"You've heard what I've had to say," Arthur said to the students behind him. "You have the right to choose which side you will be on. I can see now there will be no agreements made this day. There will be two sides in this matter. Mine and his."

"Professor," Zachary called as he stepped out from behind Arthur. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize what he meant until he spoke with us. He's planning to-" A loud bang stopped Zachary from continuing -as did the bullet that ripped through the back of his head.

Zachary fell to the ground with shock on his unfocused expression. Screams sounded from behind, Sam's most evident as she rushed to his side.

"Ha!" Arthur shouted as he twisted the shining metal gun in his palm. "This is quite effective."

"How could you do that?!" Merlin screamed, just barely holding in his magic as he sent the gun flying across the room, dividing the vile thing into tiny atomic pieces before sending it into the fire. "Why did you kill him?!"

"I'm sorry," Arthur said with what appeared to be sincerity. "I know he was your student. But he knew too much. I can't have you getting in the way. You'll see my way in time. That I am sure."

Hot tears threatened to boil over, his magic just barely containing itself, reaching out to try and ease Zach’s passing.  "Arthur, please."

"Arthur, please," Arthur mocked. "You let your emotions rule you, Professor. You could never be a great ruler. I suppose that's why I'm always with you. So be with me now. Join me completely. You and I have a chance at something great together. I know that's what you want.” Arthur raised his palm up, offering Merlin his hand.  “Come with me."

"Stay with me," Merlin felt himself beg. "We can be together here, finding another way. I understand what you want, but there is another way."

Arthur’s hand dropped.  "Weak. Pathetic. I thought you outgrew that. Whatever happened to the great legend of Emrys, the greatest sorcerer to have ever lived?"

"What happened to you, Arthur? What made you like this? You are not the man I-"

"Knew and loved?”  Arthur chuckled.  “No. I'm better."

Arthur left with the students he brought –either too scared to try and leave or actually agreeing with him, it was hard to tell. No one new followed. For that, Merlin was thankful.  The magical trap they set in the center of the room was left unused. 

They buried Zachary that night.

With heavy hearts and vengeful spirits, they argued about what to do next.

Merlin warned them all again and begged them to go home.  "We saw what he's willing to do. I promise you, this is not my Arthur. I don't know who this man is. I don't know what else he is capable of."

No one left. They each felt it their duty to protect their lives, each other, and the memory of Zach.

All they had were the handful of visions Merlin had seen. He went back to the caves but no others appeared. What struck him most in all of them were the two Arthur's battling side by side.

Merlin could not handle this on his own. He needed help. There was only one person who could help him, as Sam pointed out, the person who knew Arthur best was himself.

After much debate and exhaustive research, they concluded they needed the real Arthur to help them fight -the one that truly made up the other half of his destiny. The world was in peril, it needed it's king. But how to get him back?

"Have any of you seen _Back to the Future_?" Johnathan asked.

* * *

"So," Merlin sighed, facing the true and complete Arthur who he pulled from time. "After hearing all that, I have a question for you. One I think we both know the answer to. How important is a soul?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, headplace timespace. I will be updating eventually. I do have at least a few 10,000+ words more written... just not... English... I have this plotted till the end and I will finish it. I am determined! Thanks for the support :D
> 
> (still not editing much at all...sorry...I just re-read and I really, really should be editing hahaha)

"You believe I –he- does not have a soul?" Arthur found his mouth falling open, despite his better judgment.

"I do."

There was no time for Arthur to contemplate what he would be like without a soul. Whatever the outcome, it was bad. "Why have you not stopped him? You have the power to do so. Even he knows. He has magic but he's not better or greater than you. Why not just end it? And no, that was not a compliment."

Merlin was grinning anyway. "You think I've done nothing?"

"Haven't you?"

Merlin huffed and started to pace, "He's adapted well, Arthur. He has students to help him, magic to cloak him. We've been looking ever since he left but he's you. He's good."

"Me…" The worst part to swallow, "With magic."

"Yes."

"And you don't know-"

"No idea."

Arthur huffed and slumped back in his chair. "So you have no idea about anything?”  He muttered, “Just as useless as ever."

Merlin’s lips twitched upwards.  "We last heard he was in Greece but that was over two weeks ago."

"Greece? How long has he been gone?"

Arthur had to strain to hear Merlin say, "A couple months."

"Months?!"

"I'd like to see you hop back in time while running a school of children and investigating the end of the world all at once."

Arthur ran a hand over his face. It was a wonder Merlin survived this long on his own, centuries of all things, without mucking everything up. A wonder that he would have to contemplate later because he did not feel like discussing anything beyond this. He needed to treat this diplomatically, as he would with any stranger he did not trust. "It will takes us weeks to travel to Greece itself, have you nothing more?"

Merlin stopped pacing and held up a hand, cautiously saying, "Actually, no. We can go to Greece and back in less than a day. There are these new inventions called airplanes and you kinda fly there."

"Fly?" Arthur scoffed. It wasn't enough that he was a lying twit, but now he was just trying to have a go at him, wasn't he? "Like a bird?"

"Not quite but ah- let's leave that explanation for another time."

"Another time?”  Arthur’s fist slammed into the desk.  “You always say that. But what do we do _now_?"

"Plan,” Merlin spat back.  “Believe it or not we do have some ideas. I want to hear what you think. What would you do-"

"If I didn't have a soul and was suddenly a sorcerer and wanted to rule the world with magic causing the biggest war it has ever seen?"

"Yeah.”  Merlin clicked his tongue.  “That."

Merlin led him out of the office and down a new corridor. Arthur was still on guard as he followed, a combination of habit and not trusting his manservant of what was now, apparently, a thousand plus years.

It was quite laughable, to think of Merlin with magic. Merlin. _Mer_ lin. With magic? And powerful too? It was so utterly impossible. And yet, here he was, in a strange land with a man he barely knew, planning to attack a version of himself that had apparently been taken from the afterlife with no soul and magic as the replacement. It could only be sorcery.

Magic truly was destructive and chaotic.

The priority was ridding the world of this threat, of his other self, then he would deal with Merlin and getting back home. Then he would take new measures in his time in Camelot. Perhaps his father was not always exaggerating.

First, he had his duty to his kingdom –a righteous, soul rooted one.

"Have you checked the castle?" Arthur asked as they rounded a corner, correcting himself as he remembered the empty hills Merlin had showed him. "Where it used to be?"

"Yes." Merlin said, leading them down the path and closing in on a pair of double doors. This place was quite large. Bigger than the building suggested. "When he first started speaking about using magic and saving Camelot, I believe he meant only his –your- kingdom. For that, he would need to infiltrate Wales, at the very least. But Camelot expanded. Albion was created, if not for a short while. That reaches into Britain and with that would come other parts of the UK. None of this will go unnoticed and, as he said, and I believe, it's going to impact the world.

"In our society we have technology –er, new age weapons- that would allow such things, especially when mixed with magic. All someone would need to do is establish themselves in a position with powerful influences and expand their grasp through money or magic or technology or all of it. Knowing you, he can't wait that long. He's planning something. Something big. I don't know what precisely, but I do know if he plans to introduce magic on a global scale, it will not end well. Some grand display of magic will only end in global terror."

Arthur nodded along, not understanding all the words but getting the jist of it.  "You said something about something rising out of the ashes. That a fire must be set?"

"It was something he said, actually. After I gave him a book on the history of warlords and their tactics."

"Fantastic," Arthur muttered. Something else his other self had more knowledge of.

"I didn't know it was a bad idea at the time," Merlin defended, his voice rising in guilty pitch. "I thought it would be something you'd like. And he did. He never shut up about Alexander the Great."

"Great, then. And what did he say exactly?"

"Hm?" Merlin's confused dimples hadn't disappeared in all this time. Arthur ground his teeth at the sight of them. Merlin didn't notice and continued, "Oh. Right. Something like, the world is just a map and maps can be re-written. Whether in ink or in fire." Merlin paused a moment outside the doors and sighed. "I thought he was quoting something. I haven't found what he was looking at yet."

Arthur paused with him, staring at him as he leaned against the door. It was clear felt defeated- overwhelmed would be an understatement. In their other life, Arthur may have squeezed his shoulder and offered him words of encouragement –having felt the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders before. In their time, their kingdom was their world. In a way, he could relate.

In this life, he did not know where he stood, or where Merlin stood, or if it was even by his side. 

But…There was so much pain there.

Arthur did not reach out but spoke briefly. "I know you said he killed one of your students. I feel as though I should apologize."

Merlin's pained expression turned to him, eyebrows pinched. "He's not you, Sire."

"No. But he is a part of me. Some part of me. And so it is my duty to take responsibility. To do honor by Zachary. That is why we will stop him." The _together_ was left dangling in the air between them, to be shoved away for the foreseeable future, a future Arthur saw more of than he ever bargained for. "Show me everything you have."

Merlin sucked in a breath and, with what was obviously practiced diplomacy, opened the door without a shred of emotion on his face. Arthur knew all too well how long it took to master such a skill. Merlin used to be quite rubbish at it. Always the horrible liar. It was difficult to see him like this.

Then again, Merlin the sorcerer had been quite the wonderful liar after all, hadn't he?

The room behind the doors was a bright one. Arthur stumbled back when attacked with a sudden blindness of bright, white light. It reminded him of his dream from the night before, and it took a painful second longer than normal to pull himself together and get a proper look.

It was all so very strange. There were odd, sharp noises coming from all around, students sitting in front of weird boxes filled with more lights, and the bustling of pages being passed from hand to hand. The room was large and busy, filled with the bodies inside, but there was at least one thing he recognized –a large, round, wooden table sitting in the exact center. On it was a large map of what he instantly recognized as Camelot and beyond. He went there first, Merlin following him –as if it were old times.

Only this time, instead of showing his men their information and going over schematics and plans, Merlin and his students took charge. They explained everything they knew and therefore everything Arthur needed to know.

It was not enough.

Tracking spells were not working. His other half's 'mobile' was turned off –and what a strange thing mobiles turned out to be. The kids that left with him were not answering their mobiles either.

This soulless half purchased the gun illegally –so there was no paper trail. All of their searched locations came up with nothing.

The 'papers and press' had no stories about odd magical blonde men making a mess of any city.

Everything was normal. And so 'Darthur' as the kids were now refusing to call him anything else –apparently a reference Arthur did not understand-, was hiding in plain sight. Just as Arthur would do in this situation. Well, if he knew this world as well as Darthur did.

The students were the ones to explain the magic used to bring Darthur into the world in greater detail. Arthur bore their lectures and explanations of logic with a hollow gaze. As they continued to apologize, Arthur continued to dismiss them, but they kept coming back with more reasons to have need of apology, including Darthur's magic.  They went into more detail than Arthur would have liked –though he did need to know- about its odd origins sprouting from nowhere and how it felt wrong, just like him. Dark.

They then spoke of Darthur's party. It consisted of five students, now that Zachary was no more. They ranged in magical abilities but it was hard to say what they could have learned with Darthur. Merlin had the most knowledge of anyone in the world, but Darthur was determined. He would find ways to aid them. After months of being resurrected and months more in hiding, there was no telling what had happened when no one was looking or how much he learned.

Once there was no more new news to discuss, Merlin went to help the girl Sam. They kept trying variations of the tracking spell to see if anything would work. So far, no, but they were stubborn.

Johnathan –the one he remembered having burned the curtains- introduced himself after Merlin left. He was easily distinguishable with his curly brown hair sticking out under some sort of woolen headwear atop a speckled cream complexion.

"Hullo," he said with a northern accent, sticking out his hand. "I'm Johnathan Cross."

"I'm Arthur. Nice to meet you, Johnathan," Arthur said, grabbing the man's forearm. Johnathan jumped at the touch –which was odd because he stuck his arm out in the first place- but carefully grabbed Arthur's forearm and shook.

"You too," he said and withdrew. "Do you have any more questions? I know that was a lot of information to have at once."

"Several." Not the least of which had to do with the exceedingly detailed map he was staring at. The world was so _big._ Impossibly large. The names and places and things he saw were unfeasible. But so was everything else. "But I believe they have more to do with this world and myself rather than," he felt ridiculous for saying, "Darthur. I believe you have told me as much as you can about him and his progression. Now I must learn all he has knowledge of. And in quicker time too."

Not only would this other version have more experience as king, ruling Camelot, but he had months worth of knowledge in this foreign land. The disadvantage was great.

"I'm sure you'll be able to do it.”  Johnathan said, grasping his shoulder.  “Professor thinks so. Otherwise he wouldn't have listened to Sammy."

Arthur frowned and tried to tuck his thumbs into his weapons belt. Of course, with these ridiculous garments he had on, there was no belt and he ended up dropping his arms in a huff. He turned to the boy and asked, "Listened to Sammy?"

"Ah- Sam." Johnathan smirked and nodded towards where the witch and Merlin were glowing gold.

It was unnatural. Disturbing. Unworldly. Yet, somehow, a tiny voice inside Arthur's brain relented looking at those shining wisps floating in the air and muttered a disgruntled, _beautiful_.

Johnathan did not notice his scowl and pressed on with his explanation, tucking his hands back under his armpits.  "About bringing you back. See, she was the one to suggest it. Professor was against it at first. Said he knew what Sam was thinking, that you would know yourself better than anyone, but the first time went so poorly that it was pointless to think about."

"What changed his mind?"

"Well, she didn't talk much about it today but she thinks she found a way to get rid of Darthur, involving you. She found it a few weeks after he left but Professor didn't want to do anything till he was out of options. Sam figured it out in one of those books she's always reading. That if one half comes without a soul, it can't be put back down without it. At least not by normal means. A being with magic, even less so. So the soul somehow comes into play. The soul needs to be there at least. And then the soulless being gets thrown back into the pit of the afterlife. Kinda like a vampire, I guess. Depending on the lore. The time travel was my idea cus I knew we couldn't grab you without a soul again unless we grabbed you with one."

Arthur was getting increasingly frustrated with the gibberish these people were speaking. "A vampire?"

"Never mind that bit."

Arthur had another bit he wanted to pay mind to anyway. "How do you know he is hard to kill if you have not yet fought him?"

"Um- wait." Johnathan shuffled his feet and glanced over his shoulders, obviously looking for an escape. Too bad Arthur was blocking the only exit. "The Professor said he'd- Oh. Never mind me. Uh- oh- look- Sam can explain better than I about the soul thing. You ask her more about it if you like."

Johnathan gestured and Sam was already headed their way, Merlin right behind her.

"How'd it go?" Johnathan asked.

"There was nothing," Sam said, as if she had said it before.

"We'll try again tomorrow," Merlin said, determination clear in his voice. Arthur caught Sam and Johnathan sharing a surprised smile.

Johnathan nodded his head towards Arthur, "I was just telling him about that book you read."

"I'm still not entirely sure why I'm here." Arthur filled in, glaring at Merlin.

"Honestly," Sam sighed, "Neither am I. I mean, the book is very-"

"I think it's time to turn in." Merlin cut her off sharply. "We can go over those details another time. Arthur just got here after all. For now we'll rest. I'm starving." He turned to everyone else in the room and dismissed them before turning to Arthur, "We can take the underground to my flat if you're up to it."

Arthur stared coldly for a long moment. There was clearly something Sam was going to say and something Merlin did not want him to hear. It was always 'later' with him. Arthur was getting sick of waiting for 'later' when it did not come. The explanations he received today only brought about more questions. None of this was making him feel better for agreeing to this madness. Maybe he was right. Maybe this was all a nightmare conjured up by a sorcerer disguised as Merlin.

Mad or not, food did sound like something he needed. He could not remember the last time he ate. After a meal, he would interrogate Merlin.

"Can you not stay here and eat?" Sam asked, avoiding Arthur's gaze.

Merlin debated with himself and nodded. "Alright, I'll take Arthur to my office and we'll eat there."

Sam and Johnathan shared a different look this time, one with curiosity. Still, they left Merlin and Arthur alone as they ate in his office.

Olivia, a young petite girl wearing a comfortingly modest black and white dress, brought them dinner shortly after.  Her features were unlike anything Arthur had seen before, but she was undeniably beautiful.  Thick black hair sharply sculpted her smooth honey skin and large, dark eyes.  She and Arthur had not yet been properly introduced but she scuttled away before Arthur could get the chance.

The food was the strangest thing he had ever seen, but it tasted inexplicably good.

"It's Chinese food," Merlin explained, though that meant nothing to him. "Roast pork lo mein was always your –er, his. His favorite."

They ate in silence.  

Once they were done, Merlin offered to take him on this 'underground' again.

"You have a home here, do you not?" Arthur challenged, glancing at the corner that called to him.

Merlin shrugged uncomfortably, "I've lived many places."

"My other half stayed here." Arthur gestured to the hidden door with a tight smile. "I'd like to see where."

Merlin sputtered, mouth open, looking between the door and Arthur, trying to find a way to protest. "I've already looked everywhere. He left no clues behind."

"Maybe I will see something you have not. It is me after all."

Merlin debated another minute but his eyes eventually fell to the floor in a huff. "Fine." He turned around and did the same magic he had before, stepping aside and giving Arthur entrance. "Here."

"This place looks..." Extraordinary was on the tip of his tongue but he bit the compliment back. The underground caves were truly massive in order to house all this. It radiated the first comforts of home since arriving in this strange world. The castle of Camelot had clearly inspired the architecture.

Stone walls and floors opened into a large living space, chandeliers and large windows, with what could only be fake light, pouring in, in brilliant colors. The furniture looked too new and futuristic but it did not clash with the surroundings, it only seemed to compliment the space with expensive fabrics and padding.

Then there was the mess. Merlin's 'flat' did not looked lived in. This space did. It screamed _Merlin_ just based on the amount of rubbish littering the floor. Clothes, papers, and books. So many books.

Books outlined every wall it seemed, curling around corners and leading him towards different passages.

Merlin led him down one passage and opened a pair of very familiar, thick wooden double doors.  "Here's his room." 

The bed was remarkably similar to his own back in Camelot, a four poster with deep red blankets and plenty of pillows. The difference seemed to be in the bedding. It was much thicker than the one he was used to.

The room itself was similar in style with large fake windows, a fireplace, and stone architecture accented by odd looking furniture -what he assumed was a desk and more of those 'computers'. He still wasn't quite sure he understood what the glowing boxes did. Something about spiders and their webs. He did not understand why or how they would connect to spiders. What was the purpose?

It was clear this room had been lived in as well, but not for some time. It was cleaner than the rest of the place but there were books open on the desk and papers strewn about. There were even some clothes hanging up in the corner. The bed had the appearance of one that had been slept in, just left for some time, rustled but cold.

Arthur walked through the room, looking for any sort of hiding places he would use. Obvious places were empty which left the hidden ones. He wasn't finding anything. But then again, he had only just arrived and Merlin's eyes on him was very agitating.

Arthur continued poking around and asked, "My sword. The one Darthur came back with. Where is it? Did he take it?"

It would be nice to have an actual weapon again.

"No. He prefers,” Merlin spat the word, “-guns.  It's safe though."

"You're not going to give it to me." Merlin's silence was answer enough. "And I should trust you with it?"

"You have before."

Arthur's jaw twitched. Trust him. Why the devil would he trust him? "Sam seemed to want to tell me something you didn't want me to know. Care to share?"

Merlin sagged against the door, his arms hugging around himself –a defensive habit that apparently never broke. "We're not even really sure about anything. There is no point on dwelling on things we don't understand yet."

"Is that right?" Arthur continued with thick, fake cheer. "I don't understand much of anything at the moment. Magic. You. An undead version of myself. Should I just give up and go home?"

"Well, no. But I just-"

"What are you doing, Merlin?" Arthur stopped rummaging in drawers he wasn't paying attention to and snapped, "You bring me here, rip me away from my home, to what? What is the point of having me here if you won't tell me anything?”  He slammed the drawer closed.  “Are you trying to protect yourself from something? Because I assure you, you can fall no lower in my eyes."

"No. I…”  Merlin’s head dropped at the regal, chastising tone.  “Protecting you, I suppose."

"Me?”  Arthur scoffed, kicked a wooden chair near the long table, and threw his hands on hips hips.  “Well thank you for your _nobility_ but I don't need protecting. Never have. Not from you!"

Merlin's smirk lacked luster, "You're going to kick yourself for saying that one day."

Arthur’s knuckles cracked.  "What aren't you telling me?  I am your king, lest you forget.  You will tell me!"

Merlin hunched further towards the floor. "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry for all of this."

Arthur gave up yelling and sighed, "You wouldn't have to be if you just told me."

Merlin’s throat bobbed.  "I'm sorry for bringing you here. Sam's research…it is inconclusive at best. I should have looked harder before dragging you into this. I thought you would… I don't know what I thought."

"And what precisely am I being dragged into?"

"This world is mine. I should have done a better job at protecting it. I needed you and I let myself need you. Then with Darthur leaving and … I should have ignored it. We could have found another way."

"Than what?"

Merlin uncurled and stepped into the room, taking a deep breath. "The soul is described as the reaper. A body will perish along with its soul. It is the anchor that weighs it down, out of the land of the living. A resurrected body has no soul, and therefore no anchor. It can be killed, but not as easily. There is much in the way of supernatural lore attached to this. I honestly didn't think it true until all this."

"And you believe it is best to kill him?"

Merlin jaw tightened and his fists clenched, "There is no other way."

"Johnathan suggested he was hard to kill." Arthur's hands fell. "You have not yet found him. How would you know?"

"We know he was in Greece." Merlin quickly continued before Arthur could ask anything more, "We would reattach his soul but in order to get a soul from the afterlife…it's magic no one knows. I don't think it's possible. Even if it is…it seems cruel."

"And that's where I come in."

Merlin nodded. "The research says the two halves come together and become one. What that means is perfectly unclear.”  A familiar eye roll swept over Merlin’s face.  “Funny, actually. For another reason."

"And you didn't want to tell me this because…"

"The last time two halves came together, it didn't work out so well." Merlin refused to meet his eye.

"Those two halves being?"  Merlin's eyes flicked to him and back to the ground.  "You and I?"  Merlin seemed very interested in a piece of hair attached to his trousers.  "Are you trying to be cryptic just to make me mad?"

"There are things I cannot tell you, Arthur. You can't know too much."

Arthur felt his patience slipping. They were just circling at this point. "What happened to me? Merlin, what happened at the lake? How did I die? When?"

"Some things are better left unknown."

"I have a right to know."

"You don't want to."

"Oh, I don't?"

"Some things can't be changed!" Merlin screamed, his fiery blue eyes pinching painfully. "Leave it at that."

Arthur was not going to leave it. "I died. You are immortal. I am mortal. What happens if I die here? What will become of my past? What of Camelot? What of home? Of you? Of our time?"

"You're not going to die."

"You don't know that."

Determined, Merlin said, "You can't."

"Did you not see the same vision I did?" Arthur pointed towards nothing, as if he could bring the confusing images from the cave back to life in front of them. "You brought me here. You condemned me to that future. You sentenced my death all because of a book some little girl read. That was me falling off that cliff with my neck broken."

"Or him."

"Or not!"

"I'm not going to let you die! You can't. I won't let it happen."

"Right, because that worked so well the first time!"

Merlin looked at a loss, mouth hanging open and breath gone, as if he had been sliced clean through the gut. Then he turned and practically ran out the door, leaving Arthur standing there alone, choking on the heat of their argument still swarming in the air.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god. I just re-read. You must all be so confused. I will try to stop being repetitive and confusing … by being repetitive and confusing…mostly in the beginning bit. I promise I'll stop but if things don't make sense you should ask me/tell me. Please hahaha. Haha. Ha. *cries* (a story like this really should be written in its entirety and then … bah, I'll shut up. You know.)
> 
> Moderately slow pacing sucks but… yay for no editing!  
> And things will pick up soon. We'll move past the loop Arthur is stuck in with some actual plot very soon.
> 
> Enjoy on!

Arthur kicked the modern wardrobe. He needed to sit and think and sort through the madness he agreed to.

The chair he took was the one next to the computer, sleek, black, and stable. He idly wondered if his other self had sat in this same chair, contemplating his situation. Was that where Darthur had decided the world needed his saving and that he would be the hero by any means necessary?  Was his soul really the only thing keeping him from being so power hungry?  Was this really his future?

To die a noble king only to return a greedy, soul-less, magical being because the sorcerer Merlin took on some students that wanted to make their teacher happy? Then, the only way to get rid of this magical, soul-less thing was to bring him –the fully souled version that it used to be- into the mix, creating a never stopping loop? Was the answer really to kill this powerful soulless thing as Merlin said? Would that not have consequences? Why would pacifist Merlin choose such an option? What was Arthur even supposed to do? What was his role here?  Had his destiny really changed this much?

Arthur had to back up to the events of that morning -to think that this had all transpired in a day was remarkable, to think it transpired at all was unbelievable. He slumped in his chair and let out the breath he had been holding, shock slowly ebbing from his body as he relaxed into the semi-familiar surroundings.

Arthur could understand Darthur's intentions -could understand the need to help unite every nation for the sake of peace- but after reading the short blurbs of history Merlin had provided (if they were to be believed and, at this point, Arthur was believing them) the idea of bringing peace through conquering would only lead to disaster, murder, and a war too big for any one man to handle. How could Darthur possibly believe he could handle something so huge?

Magic would unleash chaos upon the world –a very vast and divided world. There was so much more to this world that Arthur did not understand, so much he could not wrap his mind around.

This all felt like a horrible nightmare, and if he played his part, maybe he would wake up at home where everything made sense and there was no magic and Merlin wasn’t some immortal creature.

Even just the thought of Merlin brought a new flash of boiling acid in his stomach and blurred the lines of his vision. Merlin. Merlin! How could Merlin be a sorcerer?! He was Merlin!

He pictured the one he knew, the boy, tied to the stake and crying out as the flames licked his ankles, choking on smoke with every inhale.

Arthur's knuckles turned white as he dug his nails into the surface of the wood under him.

How many laughs had Merlin had behind his back? How many times had Arthur been duped by the idiot with magic? How many times had he let his guard down around the boy who he had considered to be his friend?

Arthur's fist hit the table, making the computer jump.

Merlin was a manipulator. He lied to Arthur his entire life and even now, even after begging him for his help, he was still not telling him the full truth.

Merlin knew everything. He knew all about Arthur –about how he lived, how he fared, how he fought, how he thought, how he died. Arthur knew nothing in return. That would need to change, when he could stand to look at the man again, when he returned from crying or feeling sorry for himself or whatever lying arses did when caught.

No. He did not have to deal with this. It was ridiculous. He should not feel this way. Not guilty. It was not his fault. None of this was his fault.  It was all Merlin.

If he was to help Merlin and his students of magic, then he could stand to put up a truce. After all, there was no way for him to fight magic on this scale without magic. This he understood as a practiced knight. Skill meant nothing without the right weapon.

If he was to act as the reaper in this conflict over souls and the supernatural, he would just learn to accept it. Whatever his role as reaper would be, he would not be the one on that cliff.

An enemy with his face was still an enemy.

He thought, long and hard, as he stared at the bed across from him. He needed to know as much as he could and as fast as he could. He would put aside his pride and focus on the issue at hand. He would win this war before it started and return home to Camelot with eyes wide open.

* * *

When Arthur woke, he was still alone in a world he did not know, in a place he did not understand, with no direction of where to go from there.

In order to help these people and help his kingdom in his own time and survive, he needed Merlin to trust him, which was absurd because it was Merlin who should be working towards gaining his trust, not the other way around.

Camelot and plenty of innocent people in a world larger than he could ever comprehend needed him. Which meant he needed to find Merlin and knock some sense into him.

Literally.

He searched the rooms of this home behind the picture frame, but could not find Merlin anywhere, though he did discover many new things –including a room filled with plants and butterflies. He had muttered a strangled 'girl' and left, slamming the door.

This was all so preposterous. Merlin was hiding. Running away. Such a coward. If there was one thing Arthur loathed it was cowardice.

He stomped towards the door that led back to the library, shoved it open, and stomped into Merlin's office, only to stop in his tracks.

Merlin was in his office, asleep on a cot in the corner that had not been there yesterday. Almost as if sensing Arthur, he twisted around and opened his eyes, blinking into consciousness.

Arthur paused for only a moment before saying, "We need to talk," and sitting in Merlin's office chair.

Merlin mumbled an agreement and twisted into a sitting position.

Arthur cut him off while he was still too tired to speak, "We cannot do this. We need to work together to fix this mess you've made. I need to learn everything I can to help stop Darthur. You need to help me in return. That means, if I ask you a question, you answer it. You don't decide what I need to hear. I am the king.  I do. Until we have defeated this threat, our personal problems stay personal, and you will treat me with the respect I am owed."

Merlin nodded with a blank face. "Professional only. Got it."  Arthur raised an eyebrow.  “Sire.  Yes, Sire.  Sorry, out of practice, Sire.”

"We will stop him, Merlin. And after we defeat him, you will bring me home to Camelot in my own time."

Merlin's expressionless demeanor cracked and he whispered, "Can we at least talk before you go?"

Arthur glared at Merlin, the red-rimmed eyes and the bags under them. The differences between the boy he thought he knew and this man were startlingly clear. Each scar seemed to light up as gold and bright as his eyes when he had performed that tracking spell. It twisted Arthur's gut and he looked away, towards the door to the library where a school of sorcerers were waiting for him. The library that Merlin had created… with the Pendragon symbol at the center of it all.

Though he already knew the answer was 'yes', that Merlin needed to explain himself, that he would be telling him everything… he was too angry to agree with anything Merlin asked of him. Instead, he said, "We'll see."

Merlin nodded mutely and Arthur nodded too.

Things stayed very tense.

Arthur had a lot to learn, and even though Merlin had gained the title of 'Professor', Arthur wanted nothing more to do with him than absolutely necessary. Things were terribly awkward between them –with Merlin looking like a kicked puppy every time he laid eyes on him and Arthur ready to strangle Merlin at every sign of magic.

Good thing Arthur had books to read. An entire wing of them.

Darthur had loved the library. According to the students, before he had his magic, he would spend every moment of free time pulling books and bringing them back to read or –after Merlin stopped fretting over him not being in the same room- reading them in his favorite chair in the corner of the top wing.

There were so many large, heavy books. Dozens, maybe hundreds. He was tempted to just take Merlin up on his offer to explain what was in each of them. Tempted, but that would mean talking to him, at length.

He set to work collecting the very long list the kids and Merlin compiled and returned to the school to get to work.

Books were only that start. Ryan and Olivia were having a lot of fun explaining all the technology to him.

Mobile phones. Computers. The underground. Internet. Email. Televisions. Cameras. Microwaves. Refrigerators. Cars. Trains. Buses. Movies. Music. Indoor plumbing. Hot showers! (By far his favorite thing).  Toothbrushes.  Medicine.

The list went on and on. That was just Ryan and Olivia.

Johnathan and Sam talked to him about politics and countries and war and nuclear warheads and presidents and kings and queens and diplomatic relations.

It was all very overwhelming. To the point where he forgot who he was speaking with (sorcerers) or how he ended up there (time travel magic). He was so consumed by information, he even started to forget to be worried about the kingdom in his own time or about the people he left behind. They could handle themselves in his absence. He had faith in that.

In this time, humanity was a mess. How was something so unstable still functioning?

"You're telling me that just because of the color of their skin is different, they are treated differently?" Arthur asked the girls as they joined him for lunch. Chinese was becoming a favorite. "Not on their merit or heart? And in this time?"

Ryan nodded her head sadly. "They say racism is dead but I moved here from South Carolina. It lives and breathes."

"I suppose that's how the king felt." Sam said and Arthur looked at her curiously. She clarified, "Darthur. It is not the same, obviously. But perhaps he saw us hiding our magic from the world for fear of judgement and thought of us as being suppressed. In a way, we are."

"So blowing up the world is his civil rights protest?" Ryan asked hotly.

"In his mind, maybe. You know I do not agree with him." Sam placed a placating hand on Ryan's arm and continued, "This is not the way to go about bringing magic back into the world. And you know I do not actually believe the suppression of magic has any weight on the history of slavery in this day and age."

"Yeah, I know. I just- I'm so pissed off about everything, you know? I just want it to be over and go back to how it was."

Arthur could sympathize with that.

These discussions were strange and surprising. He had never gotten the chance to sit down and truly talk with a sorcerer who was outed and unafraid to share their magic with him. He found himself learning more with these kids than he ever expected to be able to, and soon discovered that they were all good people at heart.

Johnathan may be a bit reckless. Ryan may be a bit temperamental. Sam may be a bit distant. Olivia may be a bit anxious. But they were all good, moral people. Johnathan wanted to make everyone happy. Ryan was protective of the ones she loved. Sam was intelligent and resourceful. Olivia was motherly and caring. Sorcerers, but good. They used their magic as a tool, not a right or an excuse. They were not overtaken by power as Morgana had been.

That left Merlin.

The kids –though they were not truly children, only a few years his younger- kept trying to talk Merlin up to Arthur, about how smart and kind he was as a teacher. About how he took in kids off the streets who had nowhere else to go. About how he saved each of them in some way. About how he takes up all his time trying to make the world a better place using all resources available to him, building safe homes and donating to charities.

Olivia was the latest to open up about her relationship with Merlin, her eyes never lifting from her chewed up pencil.  "I'm adopted and Asian and have two dads.  No matter where you are, when kids learn you're different, they will tell you at every opportunity available.  I used my magic to alter my appearance, to look more white.  I would set my eyes farther apart and lighten my skin and hair.  I thought I was supposed to.  That it might help.  The Professor got a call from my parents about my magic and he put a right stop to that.  He made me see that the one of the greatest hardships in life is accepting who you truly are and that we should not go to war with ourselves.  We can only lose."

"Huh.  Makes this whole situation a bit awkward, doesn't it?" Ryan quipped, looking at Arthur.

Olivia huffed a laugh and continued, "The Professor understands me better than my own dads do.  He knows what it's like to hide your true identity.  It's so much easier to love yourself than to hide away.  I no longer feel exhausted every day, you know?"  She flashed her hand into the air, pink and green swirls sparkling across her fingertips.  "But what's the point of magic if you can't have perfectly manicured nails every day?"

When this tactic did not seem to be working, they simply tried to get him to talk to Merlin.

They were very unsuccessful in this. Merlin would stop in the room to check in on him and Arthur would let one of the kids, whoever was helping him in that moment, answer for him. He only spoke if they were completely alone and it only pertained to immediate questions.

Arthur was not an idiot and quickly learned how to cope in the modern world.

He learned to travel on his own and accepted he did not need to fear the cars or the fast moving tube of metal that sped underground, though, he preferred to walk all the same. He stayed in one of the empty rooms of the school, though he was still uneasy with the pure magic surrounding those walls -having been attacked by Sam after first stepping through the door might have had something to do with it. At least he knew Merlin was not going to kill him in his sleep, even if he could never trust him again.

A batch of burnt popcorn and one sparky fork explosion later, he learned to use the microwave as well. It was frustrating –not nearly as frustrating as the computer or phones- but he managed to learn to make himself food. Pretty soon, he could not find a need to stick around Merlin at all.

He kept on with his studies and ate lunch with the kids and went to any meeting Merlin called when it had to do with an update on Darthur. They had plans to create wards around the royal homes and political places within the country, something that would tip them off to Darthur's arrival, once he returned, as that would most likely be where he would strike first.

Even at meetings, Arthur avoided eye contact and talked to Merlin as little as possible. He spoke with Sam more often than not and she would tell him whatever information Merlin found regarding their newest plans or her research about a soul binding with its body.

"Tricky, having two bodies and one soul." Sam said while tapping the book in her lap with her pencil. "Professor Emrys is looking into any implications, but from what we have found so far, it seems as though it should not matter. A soul can be shared after all. It is not measured the same way a body is. It does not take up physical space."

Arthur nodded along but had to ask, "Emrys?"

Sam's eyes widened to full roundness and she squeaked, "What?"

"You just called him Professor Emrys. I thought you knew him as Professor Ealdor?"

"I- um- I-" Black locks flew across the deep blush crawling up her face. "It's nothing. Something I- I heard Darthur say. It must have stuck in my mind."

"Sam," Arthur said calmly.  Her fingers rubbed along the edges of the pages, very nearly giving herself a papercut. "Please. I've been lied to enough. I need as many allies as I can get. Don't make me an enemy."

Her lips rolled and her eyes pinched but she nodded. "Please don't tell him I told you. He said we were to keep quiet about his history and let him tell you himself. It… It was his name before he started to use this one."

Arthur nodded and sat back in his chair. "The name Emrys, it's from my time. There is no reason to worry. I already know."

A bit too much actually. His mind wound back over the memories the name Emrys brought -the mysterious, powerful sorcerer that Morgana feared more than any other. Rumors and speculation of Emrys being the greatest sorcerer of them all…

Arthur swallowed thickly and asked, "What I'm wondering is, how did you know? I was under the impression he kept quiet about his past to his students."

"He did. Does. I just- I know him better. I've known him longer."

"How long?"

The book in her lap slammed shut and she glared from under dark lashes. "Longer than you."

Arthur wasn't quite sure what to make of such a hostile response coming from such a calm, quiet form. Before he could comment, she was already muttering about cloaking spells they could use to protect Arthur in case Darthur found out he existed. They did not want to lose the element of surprise.

Arthur let it go, at least until later.

Gods, he hated even thinking the word 'later'.

Then came the day where he was forced to spend time with Merlin.

Arthur only had so many clothes. He had borrowed some from Johnathan, who had borrowed them from his big brother, but they were far too big on him. Merlin's larger clothes were alright but he could only wear them so many days in a row before the kids commented.

Johnathan and Sam were off to Clarence House to do warding spells. Olivia and Ryan were off to Buckingham Palace. Parliament, the other royal homes and palaces, Westminster Abbey, and other buildings on their list were already finished, spread out to conserve their magic.

That left Merlin. Arthur offered to put off shopping until the children returned, but it seemed they had purposefully planned it this way.

"Sorry for the _Parent Trap_!" Ryan had shouted before disappearing into thin air, clutching her rune covered necklace. Whatever that meant, he had no idea. And it truly was frightening, how accepting he became of seeing people come and go through bright flashes of light.

He would not back down simply because the kids abandoned him, something he was not going to forgive. With a smirk, he decided he was going to keep them all up very late with as many questions he could possibly think until they were begging him to go to sleep. For now, he was forced to give in and go shopping.

Oh, how he loathed shopping.

There were so many people asking him questions he didn't know the answer to. The lights, which he barely gotten used to, were painfully bright in the shops. There were so many clothes and sizes and colors. It was all so confusing. Why could they not just take measurements and get on with it? Why did he have to worry about choosing anything? He was supposed to have people for this.

Merlin tried to be helpful. Really -though Arthur hated to admit it- he did. He silently accompanied Arthur to the dressing rooms, as if he were some competent servant, and decided which size he was, poking and prodding but not getting in the way. It was so strange. Merlin was never this helpful. Or quiet.

A large part of him welcomed it, relished in Merlin doing what he was told for once. The other part of him… well, the other part of him just needed to shut up.

They stopped at multiple shops until lunch where Merlin led the way to a bakery of some sort. He told Arthur to wait outside as he went in to grab their food. Arthur may have listened to him if it hadn't started to rain. He was not about to be caught sopping wet when there was a building right there.

He popped inside and found Merlin's tall frame easy. He scooted around the customers and hopped into line with him near the front.

"I thought I told you to wait outside," Merlin whispered in a panic.

"It's raining." Arthur said. "Why are you waiting in line anyway? Can't you just-" he wiggled his fingers like he saw Johnathan do, a way to signify magic, "-poof in food?"

It had been explained to Arthur that his rank would not matter and, even though he was king, he could not skip the lines and jump to the front. Darthur had apparently tried to do that. He was nothing like Darthur.

"It doesn't taste as good," Merlin snarled and pointed towards the corner of the room. "Just wait for me-"

"Can I help you? Oh!" The woman behind the counter exclaimed. "We haven't seen you around here in a while! How are you, Arthur?"

Arthur looked between this stranger and Merlin and back again. The silence obviously went on too long because Merlin was the one who spoke. "He's fine. Was in a bit of an accident. Hit that thick head of his."

Arthur glared and the woman looked concerned.

She gasped.  "Oh no. You alright?"

"I'm fine." Arthur said sharply.

"Alright," the woman continued. "So that's two black coffees, one with two sugars. A blueberry muffin to share. One ham and cheese, no onion. And one roast beef melt. Did I get it right or did the knock to the head change your taste buds as well?"

"You got it right," Merlin said quickly and handed her that strange money he kept seeing passed around. He would have to ask one of the kids about it. He had their numbers in his mobile. He could 'text' them… if he remembered how to do it. They tried to explain T9 but he still did not know what that meant. It was some kind of code he had yet to crack.

Arthur was in a daze as Merlin walked to the table in the corner, the woman leaned over the counter and touched his arm before he could follow, he paused as she said, "Is he still saying he's too old for you?"

"Um-" Arthur really, really could not understand what he was supposed to say. "Too old for me? What?"

"Right?" She seemed to be agreeing with him… for some reason. "I mean, he doesn't look more than two years older than you. My boyfriend's eight years older than me. I don't know what his problem is."

"Um-" Boyfriend? What the hell was going on? "Right."

"Well you tell him to get his act together or I'm going to set you up with Chad who works in the back. He thinks you're right fit. Been begging me for your number, he has. And now that you're back…"

She trailed off and he may or may not have nodded. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on.

"Good," she said with a smile and shoved a tray with their food and drink at him.

He brought it over to Merlin who asked him what Lisa had said but Arthur did not answer. The woman –apparently Lisa- acted as though she had seen him before. Knew him. But that would be impossible. Then his brain caught up with him, he really must have been hungry to be processing so slowly.

They had one more shop to go to where Merlin brought back a stack of 'jeans' and patiently waited while Arthur tried on different pairs.

Merlin had just told him a pair was too small without making any sort of fat joke. Something was wrong. Not that Arthur cared…

"So," Arthur said, tugging on a larger pair. "You've done this all before?"

"Done what?"

"This," Arthur gestured even though he was behind a closed door. "Shopping. With him."

"Oh. Yes, Sire. I did."

"That girl at the shop-"

"Lisa."

"Yes, Lisa. She knew me. Knew him."

There was silence for a while.

Merlin cleared his throat and said, "We used to eat there a lot."

"She told me to tell you that if you didn't get your act together, she would set me up with Chad. Who apparently thinks I'm fit."

Merlin cut him off with a loud and long laugh. "I knew it."

"Knew what?" Arthur asked, swinging the door open. "I don't even know what she said."

Merlin started the pulling and prodding again, testing the give of the band of his trousers. "She was giving you a compliment, Arthur. Fit means handsome."

"Oh." Arthur couldn't help a small smile. "But she wasn't saying it. Chad was."

"How nice of Chad,” Merlin mumbled.

Arthur frowned at him. "What did she mean, that you needed to get your act together?"

"Plenty of things, I'm sure. Look at me. I'm a mess, Sire." Merlin's fingers slowly uncurled from the band and he slapped his hands against Arthur's thighs. "Those fit. You can go ahead and change back."

Merlin stepped back and shut the door as Arthur stared out. He was going to ask what she meant about their age difference, but thought better of it. Now that her words were explained, he could put together the context.

Boyfriend. The word sounded innocent enough but it seemed like she suggested…something not so innocent.

Arthur cleared his throat and changed back as he thought it over. How could his soulless half and Merlin make such an impression on a stranger that she would think such a thing? How often did they go out together? How much more did Darthur know about this Merlin than he did?

He opened the door, a scathing remark on the tip of his tongue, but Merlin stopped him. Merlin was staring out at nothing again, his face slack and wary. He did not even notice Arthur until he threw the jeans down on the bench beside him.

Arthur gave him a moment to collect himself but could not stop his curiosity. Stoic as ever, the knight broke his one rule about personal things and said, "You miss him."

"What?" Merlin's hands flexed and he leaned away.

"You taught him everything about this world, not the kids. You shopped together, ate together. You were mistaken for a couple?" Arthur was trying not to make it sound like a question, confident he understood and it was confirmed when Merlin did not automatically sputter a denial. "You would barely leave his side in the beginning. Until he told you off. You spent all your time with him."

Merlin's smile was self-deprecating. "I thought he was you."

Arthur decided to ignore the sympathy pains poking in his chest and get back on track. "I'm not blaming you. I'm telling you to snap out of it. You know we have to stop him by any means necessary. If you keep thinking of him as me, you won't be able to do that."

"I know, Sire."

"Do you? You hate hunting rabbits, Merlin. Rabbits! This is a human being. Killing a person is nothing like killing an animal."

"I know, Arthur. I do. It's not as though I haven't…."

Arthur recognized the look on Merlin's face. It was the look of a man reliving every kill he had ever caused. Every life he had ever taken. Merlin had that look on occasion but only ever killed to defend his home or his people. This Merlin… there was no telling why he killed.

"There's something else," Arthur said. "Lisa recognized me." Arthur waited for that to sink in but Merlin was not catching on. "She recognized me as I am. At this age. The Arthur that your students brought back looks like me. How? I thought he would be older. The age of me when I died or something."

Merlin's pinched face searched the pastel walls for an answer. Arthur could see an excuse forming on the tip of his tongue and beat him to the punch, "Merlin. You can't keep doing this. We talked about this."

"Talked about what?" Merlin indignantly threw up his hands. "You said you would stay and you haven't talked to me since! Not unless you were made to. Look at you. You can barely even look at me, can you?"

"Don't try to blame this on me. You're the one who keeps lying to me."

"I want to tell you! But this isn't the place and you-”  Merlin lowered his voice when a craftsman came near.  “I want to tell you everything but you won't give me a chance. There are very few things I am unwilling to share, Arthur. The rest of me is yours."

"Oh, so, a few days of the silent treatment and now you're ready to tell me everything? Is that really all it would take? Forgive me if I don't believe-" Arthur's lecture was cut short by the loud shrieking of Merlin's phone.

Merlin glanced at Arthur quickly before pulling it from his pocket and answering, "Hello?"

"Professor?" Sam's voice called louder from the device as Merlin pulled it away from his ear. "God in heaven.  You'll never believe what Johnathan did."

"I bet I can," Merlin said with a forced laugh.


	10. Chapter 10

After finishing Clarence House, Johnathan thought it would be a good idea to help Ryan and Olivia with Buckingham Palace. Being Johnathan, he did not warn them ahead of time, and when they felt a new magical entity, they attacked first and asked questions later.

Olivia corrected them by explaining it was solely Ryan's fault.

Johnathan tried to jump away from Ryan’s attack, but was too late, and flew past the wards by accident, his runes alighting with the barrier magic and barreling him inside, leaving him trapped in the palace. According to his frantic text messages, he was stuck inside a closet filled with shoes.

Olivia sighed.  "I'm going to kill him when we get him out of there."

"Not before I kick his ass," Ryan said, cracking her knuckles.

Merlin shook his head and sighed himself. "Why haven't you just broken one of the seals to let him magic his way out?"

“Besides the fact that he’s drained and can’t go teleporting anywhere?” Olivia asked, pacing a hole into the ground.

"Because then we would have to start all over again," Ryan whined. "There's a part still not protected. He can't magic himself out but he can walk. He just needs to get walking!"

"The point is not to attract attention to ourselves," Merlin reminded them.

"Finding a boy hiding in the closet might attract unwanted attention," Olivia muttered.

"Poor Johnathan," Ryan smiled. "Doesn't he know he doesn't need to hide it from us?"

Merlin groaned under his breath and asked, "Where's Sam?"

"Holding the magic open," Olivia said, gesturing to the other side of the building. "She's keeping a spot for him until you two can grab him."

"You have a plan then?" Merlin asked with raised brows.

"There's another tour going on in ten minutes," Ryan said excitedly. "You two go on it and find Johnny. He says the door locks from the outside and you know how awful he is as unlocking spells."

"True," Merlin turned to Arthur. "The boy can summon a semi-truck but ask him to move a pin and he's useless. He'll turn an entire wing to rubble."

"Hence, why you find him," Olivia said. "We already took the tour and Sam needs to keep it open. Thought it might be odd to the guards if we took it twice or hung around any longer than we already have."

"Alright,” Merlin huffed.  “You two stay out here and prepare to make a distraction if need be. Just nothing too-"

"Apocalyptic?" Ryan asked with a smirk.

"Yes," Merlin said and waved an arm at Arthur. "Come on, Sire."

Arthur stared at him, waiting for a laugh or something but apparently Merlin was not joking. "Why am I going?"

"I thought a royal like you would want to rescue the damsel in distress," Merlin actually winked at him before leaving him to jog to catch up.

"I am so telling Johnny you said that," Ryan cheered.

Arthur tried to remember everything Sam and Johnathan had told him about Buckingham Palace.  His memory was a tad fuzzy but he remembered enough to know it was some form of a castle for this time period.

The guide filled him in on some of the details but he could only pay attention so much. Merlin kept whispering words of unknown origin next to him, gold flitting out his fingertips and whizzing through the air.

No one seemed to notice but Arthur. Especially when Merlin stopped walking with the rest of the crowd and whispered into Arthur's ear, "You remember how you always told me to be the distraction? Now it's your turn. Go!"

Merlin actually pushed Arthur into one of the tables lining the halls. Arthur turned to glare at him but Merlin was too focused on one of the doors, more golden magic winding out to wrap around the handle and slip into the place where a key would go. Arthur instantly understood what Merlin was trying to do and grit his teeth. Distraction. Great, he was a bloody distraction.

He felt his face heating up with preemptive embarrassment as he took a step back and fell into the table again, this time knocking over what looked be very expensive candle sticks and statue of some sort –which he only just caught before it dropped off the side. Everyone whipped towards him at the sound of the crash, including the guards.

"Sorry," he said lamely and picked himself up, putting everything back in its place, knocking the candles back over as he did so. "Sorry. I-" He stepped back and hit the corner this time, definitely bruising his hip. "I tripped and hit the table." He grit his teeth and cursed Merlin a million times in his head as he said, "I hit my head in an accident and… my balance has been off."

Arthur glared at the door Merlin disappeared behind, no sign of him coming through yet.

"Are you sure you're alright?" A stranger from the crowd asked, looking ready to run up and catch him if he were to fall again.

Arthur growled under his breath and said, "I'm fine," just as he swung out an arm and knocked the candlesticks to the floor…again. He went to pick them up and slammed his head into the table so hard, he was sure he lifted it from the ground a few inches. He wished he could say that was an intended part of his purposeful clumsiness… and so he would.

Wonderfully, everyone let it go after that, but they moved him to the front of the group to better keep an eye on him. They patted down his pockets but found he had stolen nothing and let him pass through the rest of the tour while the guards double checked the table he knocked into.

When they reached the final room, he turned around to see Merlin guiding Johnathan with a hand on his shoulder, pretending to be interested in the architecture of the door.

Arthur actually was interested, because this place was quite grand, but he wasn't about to let them know that.

At the end of their path stood Sam. She was pretending to take a picture with her camera but Arthur could tell she was not looking into the lens. Those eyes were gold but not because of a trick of the sunlight.

They walked to her and she gave them a grateful smile as she lowered her arms and allowed her eyes to fade back to blue. She was just about to say something when the explosion sounded.

"Ryan," Merlin growled under his breath.

The explosion turned out to be something called a fire hydrant cracking open and allowing the geyser hiding under the ground to fly free. Water soared through the air, sending everyone in the immediate area running for cover. Loud noises sounded from every direction as they ran towards the hysteria, finding Ryan and Olivia running to meet them.

"Why did you-" Merlin started to ask but was cut off.

"They're here!" Olivia shouted. "It's Thomas and Ash. I don't know if the others are here but they are. I don't think they spotted us. We need to get out of here!"

"We need to go get them!" Ryan argued.

"We need to take a deep breath," Merlin said and led by example. "And calm down. We need to get out of the streets."

"Yes," said a young girl with bright red hair and golden glowing eyes, skipping up behind him. "We wouldn't want to make a scene, would we Professor?"

"Ashley," Merlin greeted her with a pained smile. "How are you?"

Her eyes narrowed and Arthur's hand instantly lifted to his hip, ready to draw the sword that was not there. He covered his move by placing his palm atop his hip and mentally preparing himself to dive for the switchblade Ryan had lent him, hiding in his boot.

"Never been better," she said with a smirk that distorted her pretty features. Her golden eyes flicked to the others in their group, each of them glaring in her direction –except for Sam, who was too busy surveying the surrounding area.

Arthur joined her search for another threat but his eyes were soon drawn right back when the girl locked onto him. He stared at her as she stared at him, never moving, her eyes pinching together as she narrowed her gaze.

"This is quite a powerful glamour spell you've surrounded us with." Merlin gestured to the surrounding area where people were still running about, not one paying any attention to the group gathered in the middle of the pavement. "More powerful than you were capable of when I last saw you."

"You're not the only teacher around," she said without looking away from Arthur. "The Emperor has many connections to people you-"

"Whoa!" Ryan stepped between them, blocking the staring contest and dragging everyone's immediate attention. "Emperor? That's taking the whole Darthur thing a bit too far, don't you think?"

"We can go as far as we wish. You still have the chance to join us."

Arthur tried to push between them and get a better look at this Ashley, but they would not let him through.

"Ash," Olivia stepped forward, her eyes pleading and her arms open.  "You still have a chance too. Come back home."

"Home?” Ashley laughed without humor.  “I think you and I have different definitions of the word."

Arthur caught Ashley's gaze flicker to the left and his body instantly sprang into action. He dove for the knife in his boot and flicked out the blade as he shouted, "Watch out!"

He turned left to face the threat but Merlin was blocking him on that side as well, arms out and ready for the magic hurdling in their direction.

"Thomas!" Johnathan cried.

Water shooting from the fire hydrant sputtered and spun above their heads, each individual droplet twirled together until a ball the size of a pumpkin levitated over Ashley's hand. The water soared through the air, not losing its shape as it dove towards Olivia's head.

Ryan pushed her out of the way and flung out her arms, sending her magic spiraling towards Ashley and throwing her backwards, skidding her against the concrete.

On his other side, Merlin and Johnathan were teaming up against Thomas. This new boy looked so much younger than everyone else, he could not have been older than the age of twelve with a round face and scruffy blonde locks. His age clearly said nothing of his power as he called balls of white light to his hand and threw them at their group, every place the magic landed catching fire, even if the surface was not actually flammable.

Sam was next to Arthur, telling him they needed to get him out of there and to a safe place but he shrugged her off, his eyes scanning the oblivious tourists surrounding them. He wanted to help. He needed to.  But there was nothing he could do to keep them safe without bringing attention to the situation. There was hardly anything he could do to stop Thomas or Ashley without getting in the way of the others. He felt so useless.

Sam deflected one of those flaming balls of light to the side and Arthur gaped at the flames starting to rise. He wondered if this had anything to do with the vision that the crystal showed him.  He could not find any fountains in sight.

Sam jumped in front of Johnathan to join him in raising some kind of invisible wall that absorbed every ball of energy in a flash of red and blue, and Merlin started chanting something he did not understand, as Ryan, Ashley, and Olivia continued to battle.

What was going on? Why did magic have to be so complicated?!

The flames were licking his ankles, heat and smoke clouding his vision of the kids and their flashes of white and red.  He jumped over a patch of fire and slammed Ryan to the pavement, pushing her from another jolt of power, feeling it prickle against his back and explode against the invisible barrier behind them.  When he made it to his feet once again, his eyes locked onto a destroyed patch of burning pavement near a woman's distracted child, too interested in the mobile in his hands to feel anything off in the world.  

"Olivia!" Arthur yelled as she struggled to stand, having been hit by one blast she could not doge. "Gather water!"

"What?!" She shouted but started to magic the water on the ground and in the air anyway.

"Put out the fires on the ground!" He jogged over to Merlin who seemed to just be standing there and yelled, "What are you doing?"

Merlin huffed in the middle of his chanting and irritably growled, "Keeping the glamour and the shield up so no one sees us or gets hit with a fireball!"

"Right.”  Arthur nodded once.  “Keep doing that then."

"So glad to have your permission, Your Majesty!"

Arthur ran over to Sam and Johnathan, still keeping their wall of magic strong as they stepped together to stop Thomas from throwing more fire. The kid was surrounded by flames now. He had no idea what Sam and Johnathan were planning on doing once they were close enough to burn. No one seemed to be taking charge here.

"Ryan, fall back and to the left! Sam, Johnathan, step right and curl back around the flames! Olivia, make a clear path for them!" Everyone followed his command, coming together in front of him and directing the fight towards the less occupied part of the street. Merlin's magic was holding, keeping any flames from escaping the large circle they occupied but he was not sure how long magic like that could stay strong with those explosions sounding around them, dissipating into yellow lightening strikes, looking like cracks in their barrier.

"Olivia," Arthur pulled her by her sleeve and spoke rapidly into her ear. "When I give you the signal, pull those three back to us as quick as you can."

"But what-" She started.

"Now!" Arthur called.

Sam, Johnathan, and Ryan all screamed as Olivia pulled the three of them sharply towards her with magic, all four of them crashing to the ground behind him., leaving Ashley's giant ball of water hurdling towards Thomas' wall of fire. The two collided with a loud hiss and steam whorled into the air. Thomas was soaked through and when he tried to ignite a flame, it would not spark. Ashley screamed and hurled water in their direction, but she had screamed in a different tongue. The water froze in the air and shards of ice, like dozens of arrows, dove directly towards Arthur who had nowhere to go, people all over the ground blocking any path.

Suddenly, Merlin shoved in front of him, one hand lifted towards Ashley and the other tugging Arthur behind him. It was as if life slowed to a standstill as the ice paused in midair and crashed to the nearby ground, smashing into a thousand pieces.

Arthur gaped. There was little else he could do.

Merlin had just saved his life. Using magic.

Arthur cleared his throat and took charge once again.  "Everyone, on my mark, use your magic to send them together and hold them down. Steady, and-"

Ashley charged towards Thomas and curled him in her arms, the two of them disappearing in a flash of light before he could give the signal. They looked around but found themselves alone in a perfect circle of destroyed street pavement.

The kids and Merlin worked to fix the site so they could remove the glamour before pedestrians would see the mess they made.

Arthur stood by awkwardly, slowly sliding the knife back into place and slipping it in his pocket. His first fight against this enemy and he had been completely useless.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked Merlin cautiously, eyeing him up and down.

"Of course I am."

"Your magic.  You didn't use it against them and I understand why..."  A single delicate eyebrow rose incredulously.  "But you needed to say the spell to keep up the glamour. You don’t usually need to- I mean, it didn't feel as-"

"I'm fine." Merlin said and waved her off with a smile. She looked pointedly at his arm and he scoffed, "It's just a scratch."

Many tiny red lines were beading blood along Merlin's exposed pasty skin, lining up with the tips of the ice that had hovered in the air. Arthur had not realized any shards had reached Merlin's skin.

Johnathan was kicking at a piece of uprooted pavement and said, "They seemed extra powerful today, didn't they?"

Ryan defensively threw up her arms.  "We were taken off guard."

"At least Arthur's glamour held," Sam said. "I don't think they could recognize him."

Arthur had completely forgotten about that and his hand instinctively leapt to the band around his wrist. He had not liked the idea of wearing a magical bracelet to hide his identity, but results were results. Ashley had had the longest look and she had not said anything, though he was nearly identical to Darthur. He wondered what he looked like to her under the spell. Sam had not explained very well.

"But why were they here?" Olivia asked, breaking him out of his thoughts, her phone in her hand once again, bright orange fingertips flying across the screen.

"I don't know," Merlin said and faced the water still shooting into the sky. He stared at it and his eyes flashed. The water slowly sunk back into the ground, spurting less and less until there was no longer even a putter coming from underground. "But they're gone now. Let's get something to eat. None of us are making it home in our state."

They grabbed a pizza at a local restaurant so they could rest their magic and everyone could hear Johnathan's tale.

"So there I was, poofed into the middle of the kitchen's, right? So I bolted through the first door I saw. Musta made a wrong turn somewhere cus I swear I saw the Queen."

"You did not," Olivia laughed. "She wasn't in."

"Well then it was her doppelganger or something!" Johnathan argued back with relish. "I darted the other way but ran into this guard. I managed to knock the carpet he was standing on. Fell flat on his face." He made the sound effects and gestures to go along with his story and everyone chuckled. "Then I threw myself in that closet, wondering what I was gonna tell her majesty when she saw me trying on her shoes."

"You were not in the queen's closet!" Sam gasped, scandalized.

"You bet your arse I was," Johnathan laughed. "So I'm just about to forget you lot and the good you're doing me when the Professor shows up, telling me Arthur nicked a statue so he could come bust me out."

"I did no such thing," Arthur could not help a small smile.

"Ah, damn," Johnathan groaned. "I was hoping for a memento. Oh well, so, Professor gets us out and then we run into two guards by the doors towards the tour, right? There's no way they didn't see us. So I'm all ready to run, but Professor just walks right up to them and taps their heads and poof –they can't remember us being there. We sneak right back in, right, like we were there the whole time."

"You erased their memories?" Sam asked Merlin.

"I don't like to do that," Merlin lectured, his face falling into a mask of stoic seriousness that just did not suit him.  

How was Merlin ever allowed to be a teacher?

Merlin continued, "I hate violating a person's mind, but in this instance, I believe it was best."

"Oh, come on," Johnathan wined. "Don't turn my epic story into a magic lesson."

"Which reminds me," Merlin teased. "You're to work on your lock picking when we get back. It really shouldn't be that hard for someone with magic to do."

"Yeah," Johnathan agreed, a sadness creeping into his tone. "Zach was going to teach me to do it for real at one point."

"The old fashioned way," Ryan said with a smirk.

"He always was getting into trouble," Sam said.

There was a moment of silence around the table, drowning in the background noises of other groups and the establishment's hired hands.  

Arthur felt he was intruding more than anything. He did not know this boy his soulless half killed. But he was a boy. A boy with friends who cared for him.

"Thank you guys," Johnathan said, nodding at Merlin and Arthur. "For not leaving me to the queen's mercy."

"Don't thank me," Arthur said. "Merlin made me the distraction solely for revenge."

"Merlin?" Olivia and Johnathan echoed.

Ryan slumped in her chair and sighed, "Aw man. I was hoping to hold onto that."

"Merlin?" Olivia asked with a frantic smile. "Oh my gosh. I should have known sooner. King Arthur. Knights of the Round Table, King Arthur? Merlin. Merlin! You're _the_ Merlin!"

"Keep your voice down," Merlin pleaded and Arthur smirked. Seems he got his own revenge in turn.

"Holy shit," Johnathan breathed. "I won the bet. I knew it! Knew there was a reason you wouldn't tell us which king it was. I knew it was him! Myth my arse!"

"That's fantastic," Ryan groaned. "You can collect later."

"Wow, Professor," Olivia gasped. "That makes you…"

"Old." Johnathan said and Olivia slapped him upside the head.

"Please forgive us, Your Majesty," Sam said with a small smile.

Arthur waived her off. "Who exactly did you think I was?"

"Thought he gave us a fake name," Johnathan said. "Kinda like a joke. So we wouldn't mess with history or whatever. But King Arthur. You're legend. Oh my god," his gaze flew through the air to look at nothing. "I was saved from the closet by King Arthur."

Ryan burst out laughing, snorting up soda. "Please, re-play that sentence back in your head."

"I forget you're actually a king sometimes," Olivia said quietly. "And you, Professor. You're legend too."

"Legends don't make the man," Merlin said grimly.

Arthur felt his gut twitch. Was that directed at him?

Merlin huffed, "Now that we have that out of the way-"

"Out of the way?" Olivia asked with a squeak. "We have so many questions!"

"Yes," Arthur said, pointedly. "Many."

"Another time," Merlin said and ignored the collective groan. "I have to speak with His Majesty first. Then we can talk."

Arthur raised a brow, his eyes darting to a patch of drying blood on Merlin's shirt sleeve. Perhaps it would not be so bad to hear him out this time.

Merlin smirked at Arthur and said, "I'm sure you have questions for him as well. Leave them until later too."

"Alright," Ryan pouted.

"Arthur," Sam said, pulling the attention away. "You said the Professor tried to get revenge on you? Why would he do that?"

"Because Arthur is a crybaby," Merlin said with a wide smile. "I was always the distraction."

"And a rubbish one at that," Arthur said.

Merlin gasped. "I was very good, thank you very much!  Once you get thrown into the middle of it enough times, you get used to it. There was one time he dressed me up in knight's garb, sword and all, and..."

Merlin continued on with his story, only interrupted by the group's laughter or Arthur correcting his mistakes. He most certainly did not hug Merlin the moment he found him, unable to let go until Merlin pushed him away. He most certainly did not get saved by Merlin, Merlin was absolute rubbish at sword fighting! A lucky blow, maybe, but not saved.

It was strange, to see Merlin opening up like this. Not strange because it was Merlin –Merlin would never shut up-, but strange because it was this Merlin. The Merlin who lied to his students about who he and Arthur were -even after a version of himself had already come back. What made him so closed off? What changed him? Who?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back bitches!
> 
> Thank you guys for all the support! Gosh *fans face* Especially since I'm half making it up as I go (which I will continue to remind you, so I absolve myself of any suckitude)
> 
> I went back and edited the first ten chapters, I would recommend re-reading because I added some stuff and it's been like... 2 years. And if you beta and would like to do so, I urge you to contact me. I have particular issues, but won't whine in my notes about them… probably.
> 
> To my darling FF guest who asked if this would be an eventual merthur. -I don't think I can write anything but merthur since it is a proven fact that they are in love with each other. (I just don't know how other people do it.) But in this fic, it might (I say might because see above about the half making this up stuff) not be the fuck-against-the-wall fic that I usually do. Insane, I know. There will be merthur but it might be a bit different than what you're expecting. Romance comes second to plot in this one. Which, oh god why? But yes. And thank you for showing interest and reading and bah! I appreciate it :D
> 
> And I should also write a fic that is titled "Screw You Chad" and make it a fuck-against-the-wall of the bakery bathroom fic. And it will be your fault ;)

Arthur paced the top wing of the library, his soft, thick boots, held together by something called a 'zipper', scrunching under every step. The library closed hours ago and the children were all in their rooms for the night, exhausted and drained of magic. He had tried to read another one of the many texts, his eyes drifting over the cover of _King_ _Arthur the Legend and Leader: Battle Tactics_ , but his mind was racing.

To be fair, his mind had been racing the moment Merlin dragged him into this mess. However, it was purely Merlin who had him distracted now.

In this modern world, he could distant the boy he knew from this sorcerer and his students, making it easy to forget who Merlin claimed to be, easy to ignore. After spending weeks with the students, tainted with magic as they were, Arthur could confidently say they were trustworthy. It was because of that, that Arthur found himself conflicted with this aged Merlin. Arthur owed no thousand year old sorcerer any debt.

Yet, apparently, he did.

The man froze time to save Arthur, wounding himself in the act. The stretch of fabric Merlin grabbed to tug Arthur behind himself still seemed to pull across his chest. He rubbed at his collar, cracking his neck on each side.

Merlin's worn face, splintered with heartbreak and confusion, his eyes downturned and his shoulders slumped, would make most believe that he actually cared. The look only made Arthur furious.

Yes, this sorcerer saved his life and was these children's idle, but he was Merlin. Merlin was not supposed to be any of these things. Merlin was a boy, lost and clumsy, and not at all heroic or self-sacrificing. For gods' sakes, he would hide behind literally anything to avoid conflict, including Arthur's legs!

Merlin had no right to lie his entire immortal life and then bombard Arthur with his pitiful looks, expecting his forgiveness. Arthur's insides burned at the thought, his teeth grinding. His palms slapped atop the banister and he leaned against the wood, staring down at his family crest in the floor.

To think the two, sorcerer and boy, overlapped in any way, could not be explained, yet that was all Merlin wanted to do. Explain things. Well, Arthur did not want to hear it.

So, of course, Merlin appeared next to him, opening his mouth in greeting.

"Merlin," Arthur said first.

Merlin's mouth clicked shut at the short tone, and he took a step away, hands behind his back.

Arthur did not look at him. "What do you want?"

"After the pizza place, I thought-" Merlin's head ducked, his voice muffled. "Never mind."

Arthur growled, "Will you stop?" He spun around, his mouth set in a hard line, challenging the man hiding in the shadows.

"Stop what?" Merlin asked.

"Feeling sorry for yourself!"

"What?"

"It's pathetic," Arthur barked.

Merlin stepped forward, moonlight glowing against his baffled features, gold shining in his eyes. "I'm not-"

One of Arthur's hands seized Merlin's tunic, the other formed a fist, soared through the air, and collided against Merlin's cheek with a loud smack. Merlin fell into the grasp, his hands jumping to his jaw, as Arthur pulled him to his feet, preparing for another blow.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Merlin yelled, trying to rip himself away.

Arthur kept his fists closed, pulling the struggling boy to his knees. "You were going to use magic on me again!"

Merlin sputtered, dramatically checking his lip for any blood. "What?!"

"You altered my mind!"

The pieces seemed to line themselves up. Merlin mumbling foreign words under his breath, his armor falling to the ground in a heap, Merlin touching his temples and bombarding him with visions, Arthur comforting Merlin on the bench in the shops, gold burning up the air as Arthur made a fool of himself by diving into a table, the group of kids laughing as Arthur listened to Merlin's lively storytelling. He remembered wondering what other stories Merlin had to tell, knowing he had a long life of possibilities and probable screw-ups.

Arthur had been dead set against being in the same room as Merlin for weeks. All of a sudden, because of one tiny battle they fought together, and just because Merlin made one selfless decision in his life, that meant he was willing to consider listening to all the excuses Merlin would make about his magic and his lying?

"I warned you I would cut you where you stood if you every used magic on me again!" Arthur shook Merlin, his arms straining to keep the man from falling over. "You made me forget. That's why I thought I could talk to you again. You've already used magic on me, you were going to do it again!"

Merlin stopped struggling, his face incredulous. "What the hell made you think that?"

"You've done it once today already, on those guards." Arthur's grip strengthened. "You did it to me in the shops and the palace, making me feel sorry for you."

Merlin grunted indignantly, his fingers wrapping around Arthur's wrists. "What are you talking about?"

Arthur jerked him hard, Merlin's head snapping forward. "My head only cleared when you weren't near."

"I haven't used magic to manipulate your mind once since you've been here! I wasn't going to use magic on you now either!"

"Your eyes-"

"Oh my gods!" Merlin's eyes widened, his fingers wrapping tighter around Arthur's arm. "I cannot believe I actually have to say this, but it was literally just a trick of the light for once. Look." Merlin pulled back and his coat cut into his neck. "Let me stand."

After a moment of glaring, Arthur loosened his grasp, not completely letting go. Merlin stood, shifting into the spot where he had been when Arthur punched him.

"Now, look," Merlin said.

The gold was shining back in his eyes, a red slash shining against his jaw. Arthur raised his fist once more, and Merlin tilted his head away, the shining lights dancing across his cheek.

Arthur followed the streams across those cheekbones, over Merlin's shoulder, to the bookcases, and back around to the banister, his eyes falling to the Pendragon symbol, noting the way moonlight seemed to dance off the gold surrounding the red wings, reflecting off every surface, all the way up to the arched ceiling.

"Oh," he muttered to himself.

"Yeah, oh," Merlin huffed, his hand cupping his face.

Arthur refused to apologize. He had no reason to trust a person with magic. After all, that light could be used to hide a pair of glowing eyes, the perfect spot for any kind of trickery.

Merlin's feet shuffled and the sound of his angry footsteps echoed away, towards the entrance to the stairs.

"You have done this to yourself, you know," Arthur called. The footsteps stopped. "Learn to lie in the grave you dug."

"I've done what to myself, exactly?" Merlin snipped, his body whipping around.

Arthur spared him a glare and looked away. "You know exactly what you did."

"I do," Merlin snapped and stomped to Arthur's side, pushing into his personal space. "I know exactly what I have done, my entire life. You don't know a thing about anything."

"Don't know a thing?" Arthur kicked himself up and crossed his arms. "Oh, well then, _Mer_ lin, please explain. Surely I can only learn from someone as wise as yourself."

"You are such a child," Merlin spat, crossing his own arms.

"I'm the child?!"

"Yes, you are! If you would just get your head out of your own arse for two seconds, you would see that I have done nothing but try to-"

"Oh, yes. Try, try, try. That's why I should forgive you, is it?" Arthur's eyes widened with mock excitement. "Because you always try your best."

"I never asked you to forgive me!"

"Then what am I supposed to do?!" Arthur roared, his voice echoing in the empty halls, slamming back into his aching chest. "When I go home, Merlin will be there."

"I am Merlin."

"You're not him!"

Merlin lunged forward, rage glittering in his eyes. "I am. There is no difference between he and I. We are the same. We are magic. We are Emrys. We have lied to you and most everyone we cared about our entire lives in order to protect you. I have done everything wrong in order to do it all right."

"And I have done everything right to end up wrong!" Arthur stomped forward, toe to toe with the sorcerer.

Merlin froze. His eyes jumped up and down Arthur rigid frame, soaking in his words. Slowly, his rage melted and recognition dawned across his face, his voice dropping low. "There is a difference. You are not him. You are not Darthur."

Arthur's jaw twitched. "I am. If you are a sorcerer, then I am a soulless creature returned from the dead."

"That's not-"

"How is it different, Merlin? How?" Arthur's arms fell to his side. "If I am to accept all of this, then I need to accept what I turn into."

"He is not you," Merlin said with such conviction that it made Arthur's heart jump. "For all we know, he's some creature." A hand flew up into the air. "A doppleganger or a demon or a vampire or something."

"A dopple-what?!" Arthur stepped back.

"This is why you need to talk to me!" Merlin stepped forward, filling the void. "Let me help you!"

"Why should I? What have you ever done for me?"

Merlin toppled back, his hand grasping the banister before he could drop to the floor. He shook his head, his mouth pinching, and his eyes jumping to the shining Pendragon symbol. He chuckled darkly.

"What have I ever done for you?" he asked, with an ominous twitch of the lips. "Well, let's see. There was the time I killed for you, or the time I died for you, or the time I almost died saving you. Oh, and we can't forget the boot scraping and the armor cleaning and the- yes, how can we forget that? The living every day in hell waiting for your return-"

"Oh my gods," Arthur growled, yanking his hair. "How did Darthur never punch you in the face? My soul is literally the only thing holding me back from doing it again."

"Because it would really be so horrible if we didn't punish me for telling the truth."

Arthur ignored him. "Then again, you and Darthur were best pals weren't you? Makes sense. A soulless beast befriending a lying sorcerer." He sneered, remembering the prophecy Merlin had mentioned. "Two sides of the same coin, indeed."

Merlin's knuckles turned white against the banister. "I had reasons for lying."

"To me."

"Yes! To you of all people, yes!"

Arthur breathed sharply, ready to let loose through words or fists, but Merlin was back to pleading with his eyes, leaning into his space with his bruised jaw, and gently grabbing Arthur's shoulders, -a spell all its own.

"I need you to listen to me, Arthur," he begged and gripped tighter. "Really, listen. _Please_."

Arthur paused, took a kingly breath and stood straighter, his arms crossing again. Merlin was lucky he had enough patience to do so. One of them had to be the mature adult here.

Merlin waited until Arthur nodded for him to go on before he ducked in, his silhouette alight with shades of silver and gold, his words slowly tumbling from his shaking chest. "You are the most important person in my life. Everything I have done or will do is to protect you. All I have ever wanted is to protect you and Camelot. I would do anything for you."

Arthur shifted his shoulders, throwing Merlin's hands away. "You have a funny way of showing it."

"I've been horrible at explaining things to you. After Darthur, I never expected to have to do it again." Merlin threw his hands up. "But I could never use magic to hurt you. My magic could never hurt you… It's yours."

Darthur's eyes glowing gold in the blue of the crystal, flashed in Arthur's mind. He shook the vision away. "What do you mean?"

Merlin pulled in a heavy breath, his body softening as he leaned against the railing behind him. "My magic was always a tool for you to wield through me. I am and will always be your servant. It has always been yours for the taking."

One of Arthur's eyebrows raised as he appraised Merlin, his eyes trying to drag any lie to the surface. Merlin did not flinch at the scrutiny.

"I never asked for it," Arthur bitterly responded.

"Well, neither did I," Merlin said roughly. "I was born with it. I didn't exactly have a choice in all this."

The weak look Arthur hated so much was back, those immortal wrinkles creeping into the corners of Merlin's eyes. The memory of Merlin yelling about watching everyone he loved die, only seeing them when near death himself, rang in Arthur's ears.

The toe of Arthur's boot tapped the upright closest to him. "You chose to lie."

"Yes. I did. And if I could have changed the world we lived in, I would have." Merlin's lips rolled and he hissed, his finger jumping to the bruised corner of his mouth. "I dug my grave, as you said. I spun a web of lies I could not see myself unravelling." His hand fell back to his side. "Not then."

"And now?"

"Whenever you are ready." Merlin nodded. "In the meantime, I have something for you." His hand dove into the pocket of his jeans and he pulled out a crinkled envelope, small, thick, and white, with Arthur's name scrawled in the middle in dark blue ink. "Here." He held it out. "I've laid out the details of your future, the highlights of our lives intertwined at Camelot, up until the end. The choice is yours, if you wish to know or not."

Arthur's fingers slowly closed around the dense paper. "My death?"

"Yes." Merlin's eyes dropped and he let go. "I thought about what you said. You may not be the king in this time, but you are still my king. When you ask me a question, I should answer. I respect your intelligence and your leadership enough to do so. I apologize for my insubordination, Sire." His hands found their way back behind his back, clasping together just as they had always done, no sarcasm lacing his tone or sliding his brows upwards. "I'm afraid everything I have to say would take up many novels, but this is what you asked to know. When you are ready, I will explain all."

Arthur tugged the envelope tighter into his palm, his thumb rubbing against a corner's point.

"There will be alcohol," Merlin hastily added with a hopeful smile.

Arthur nodded slowly, turning the corner over and running his fingers along the edge. It felt heavy, requiring both hands to keep it from plummeting to the ground. He glanced at Merlin's curious eyes and tentatively said, "So you can hold your liquor now, can you?"

Merlin burst out laughing, "Absolutely not!"

"Really?" Arthur cracked a smile. "I would have thought you'd have the practice, with your love of taverns and all these years."

"You don't…" Merlin's eyebrows twitched. "Actually believe I was always in the taverns, do you?"

Arthur's smile fell as he thought about Gaius' frantic explanations whenever Merlin shirked his duties. It always seemed a bit odd, Merlin in the tavern, but then again, Arthur was usually busy dealing with some crisis… some magical crisis, and never had time to think much about it.

"Huh," he muttered.

"But- um." Merlin fidgeted, his fingers tapping against his thigh, as if he sensed he did something wrong. "I can try. To hold it, that is." he said feebly.

Arthur tried to smile at him, but he could not make it very convincing.

After an uncomfortable pause, Merlin pointed to the stairs, his weight shifting from side to side. "I'll just- If you want to go to bed, or be left alone, that is. And um-" He gestured to the letter in Arthur's grasp. "Whenever you're ready to hear more. You know where I am. You don't need to read that by yourself. Or at all, if you don't want. I can just tell you what you want. Um. So…" He turned away, only to spin back around and bend his head forward. "Goodnight, Arthu- Um. Sire."

With a stiff bow, Merlin turned on his heels and disappeared between the nearest row of books.

"Is it really that hard for you?" Arthur called to his back, a smirk evident in his voice. "To address me properly? Or has your mind degraded after all this time? Frightening to think of what could possibly be left of it."

Merlin's footsteps clipped back towards him, a poorly hidden smile wrinkling his eyes. "So sorry." He bent at the waist and flourished a hand before Arthur's knees, adding a dramatic, " _My Lord_."

Arthur kicked at his hand and shook his head. "Horrible."

"Would you like me to kiss your ring, Your Majesty?" Merlin playfully reached for Arthur's hand.

Arthur shoved him away and laughed. "For someone who just said they would be a respectful servant to the king, you truly exceed expectations when addressing your betters." Merlin's gigantic ears wiggled with his trembling smile, his shoulders shaking, holding back laughter. "Just call me by my name. No need to strain yourself."

Merlin's hands fell to the ground as his giggles escaped, his sleeves tugging up his skinny arms.

Arthur gasped, "Your arm. It's healed."

The blood that had been welling up from the piercing ice attack, seemed to have no source. Under the coarse black hairs scattered over Merlin's forearm lay only clear, smooth skin, not a single scratch to be seen.

Merlin quickly pulled at the hem of his sleeves, shrugged his shoulders, and pushed to his feet. "Immortal. I heal fast."

"Then how…" Arthur nodded towards the section of Merlin's bicep where he had seen the widest, thickest rope of white scar tissue.

Merlin hugged his body and tugged at the fabric covering his shoulder. "Some aim to kill."

Arthur's gaze dropped to the floor, his head tilting as the tendon in his throbbing neck pulled.

"You can- I mean," Merlin stuttered, changing the subject. "You can sleep in a bed tonight, if you wish. An actual bed, not just a cot in the corner of an unused classroom."

"In your flat?"

"No. I mean, here."

"In the place behind the painting?"

Merlin nodded obediently.

Arthur's mind drifted to those soft blankets, multiple pillows, and curtains that kept out all the fake light. No getting woken up by screaming children or invisible cats -because apparently one of the students thought turning a cat invisible would be a good idea. Horrible creatures.

"Alright," Arthur nodded.

Merlin led the way down to the bedroom in a comfortable silence, his eyes flashing guiltily whenever he needed to perform a spell, his gaze checking with Arthur each time he had to mutter a word in another tongue. Once inside the familiar surroundings, a low fire burning in the fireplace -started with a 'match' and not magic-, Arthur bid him good night.

"I'll be just in there," Merlin said gesturing to the room across the hall. "In case you need anything."

"You're staying here?" Arthur was certain Merlin had been returning to the cot in the office this entire time. It had been slept in more than once, Merlin not far from it every morning.

Merlin stopped turning towards his room, bouncing awkwardly in the doorway. "I don't have to. I could...not?"

It appeared Merlin was going to pass out for lack of breathing while waiting for Arthur's command. It took Arthur a good minute for his hand to grasp the envelope tight, his eyes locking onto Merlin as he made his decision.

"You may stay," he said.

The greeting smile really could light up a room. "Thank you, Arthur."

As Merlin spun to his own comforting bed, Arthur turned to the dresser, hiding the envelope deep inside, behind the chainmail he had tucked away. He sighed and started to get ready, dressing in the comforting pair of sleep clothes Merlin had bought him, similar to the pair he had accidentally pet on Merlin's leg when he had thought this world to be an actual nightmare. He contently brushed his teeth with the sharp tasting toothpaste and used what he could now confidently call a 'toilet' and not the self-cleaning, magical, chamber pot.

Then he checked his phone for messages from the kids, seeing one from Johnathan in all capital letters.

_YOU ARE KING ARTHUR! HOLY SHITE! PLEASE MAKE ME A KNIGHT ASAP!_

It felt vaguely inappropriate, to see such letters through a futuristic device, and he could not say he knew what the word asap meant. Perhaps it was too futuristic and the translation spell, placed upon him by Merlin, could not find the word for it. After all, this modern 'English' included words that were just too strange for the language he and Merlin alone spoke.

He squinted down at a message from Ryan, a small red 100, underlined multiple times. He tilted the screen to see if he could make it bigger as he had seen the other kids do. Unfortunately, his bulky mobile did not function like the sleek, large mobiles the kids possessed. This was because he owned a phone that was dumb, according to the kids. They had phones that were smart. The fact that the devices had intelligence levels was only slightly terrifying, though they reassured him often that he had no reason to worry.

It was as he leaned over to clip his phone into the black snake that gave it life, that he saw Merlin's door wide open. The light was still on, but there was not a sound to be heard.

"Merlin?" he called.

Merlin ran to the door in a rush, nearly crashing into the frame. "Yes?!" he panted. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Arthur confirmed, ogling Merlin's trousers, wrapped around his ankles. "Are you?"

Merlin looked down, his face heating up to an alarming shade of red. "Yes! Of course! I was just…" He hastily pulled the jeans back up. "I'm alright."

"Alright," Arthur nodded once and watched Merlin trip as he re-entered his room.

Once tucked into his bed, comfortable sinking into layers of feathers, Arthur looked to the fire and realized Merlin had left his door open. He groaned and contemplated calling Merlin to do it for him -maybe using his mobile to do it-, but forced himself to roll to his feet and slump his way across the cool floor. He pulled on the handle of one door but stopped when he reached for the other. Merlin's door was still open.

Arthur rolled his eyes and trudged across the hall, opening his mouth to ask Merlin why he thought Arthur wanted to see him with his trousers around his knees. However, the room was dark, too dark to make out more than outlines. When he found the rectangle of the bed, he saw Merlin shoved into the blankets, a tuft of black hair the only thing visible to the waking world.

"Idiot," he whispered, but there was no reply.

Arthur shook his head and exited the room, pulling the door closed behind him. He was too tired to care. He simply closed the doors to his room as well, climbed back into bed, and stared at his dresser, contemplating the enormous undertaking of his life and complexity of his emotions for what felt like hours before rolling to his side and surrendering to the night.


	12. Chapter 12

 

Merlin's eyes cracked open and he lurched into a sitting position, his heavy blanket falling from his face and into his lap. Something was wrong.

He searched the bed, but it was empty. His gaze jumped the the door -the closed door. He lunged to his feet and threw it open, hurdling himself into Arthur's rooms.

The fire was still burning, low but bright enough to see. Clothes were missing, nothing scattered around the room waiting for Merlin to pick it up. The computer was not on the desk. All of the text books Arthur had been reading were not stacked up on the table, surrounded by takeaway containers and coffee cups. Arthur's leather jacket was even missing from its constant spot hanging off the back of his favorite chair.

Merlin's heart thudded in his chest and he blinked hard. If he just kept his eyes closed long enough, everything would return to normal. He had not imagined his long life. He was not in Camelot in the 7th century. The year was 2015. He was wearing silk pants, for gods' sakes. This was not magic, it was only a dream.

A loud snore shook him out of his stupor and his eyes darted to the bed. Arthur hid under three different pillows, but was still loud enough to be heard across the room. Merlin smiled, looked around the room, and frowned. Nothing had returned.

Right. Same time, different Arthur.

This Arthur hid his modern clothes in the dresser and kept the technology in the computer room of the school, all except his phone and charger, never plugged in correctly. Like the other, this Arthur seemed to forget to plug it into the wall.

Merlin bent over and plugged it in for him, remembering how the other Arthur would kick him in the knee if it were his charger left dangling. Merlin turned around, half expecting to see him there, a smirk on his face and a leg raised.

There was no one.

Merlin sucked in a breath and exited Arthur's rooms, silently shutting the door behind him. He went about his morning routine, slipping into jeans and one of his many band t-shirts, before starting the coffee in the kitchen.

It took him until he popped four pieces of bread in the toaster before he realized he had made two cups of coffee. Again. He tipped the mug into the sink and watched the murky water spiral down the drain.

Once the toast popped, he stacked them onto a plate with butter and cheese, thinking Arthur would want to eat more, but would have to wait. Merlin needed to get out of the kitchen.

The greenhouse in this hidden home was by far his favorite. Like the others, it could run without his presence, magic and technology working together to make sure the plants were well watered and had plenty of sunlight -whether that be from the actual sun or borrowed from the sky and transported underground. However, Merlin enjoyed being in the warm room, surrounded by herbs and natural medicines, flowers of all different colors, vegetables, fruits, and even a few hidden trees winding far in the back.

As he opened the doors, swarms of blue and purple butterflies leapt into the air, spiralling towards the small pools of clear water, landing on vines curled around rocks and benches.

Merlin sat upon one of those worn metal benches, and tilted his head towards the borrowed sky, a place he knew off the coast of Scotland, breathing in the smells of his secret cave. With a flick of his hand he pulled the air from the same sky and a gentle breeze tossed the leaves this way and that.

He shifted uncomfortably, noting the way the breeze only made half his greenhouse dance. Truly, he was exhausted if it meant even this simple spell would not surrender to him completely. He tossed his hand behind him and borrowed the air again, sighing when the entire room finally felt the cool ocean winds sweep over it.

Stress was an understatement for what Merlin felt, but it troubled him to think that his magic was responding to the faults of his human form. He needed to work at unblocking his chakras soon. He reached for his phone to make a reminder to speak with Chenguang about helping him realign his energies. His former student had moved back to Hong Kong years ago, but she would be willing to Skype him after their next update on Darthur and his movements.

Chenguang was only one of a handful of former students helping him across the world, -the former students that responded to his plea for help, at least. There were not many to contact. He had only started teaching in the school format the past few decades, after the scare of the World Wars. But many students had families they needed to worry about, or simply lived in places where they could not help, and could not leave.

The world would always turn, no matter when it was about to end.

While he had his phone on, he flipped to the most recent message from Olivia. She was up, bright and early, as always, every social media account she owned wishing her followers a happy day and sharing a morning quote. Today it read, _'It's painful to say goodbye to someone that you don't want to let go. But it's more painful to ask someone to stay if you know they really want to go.'_

Merlin shoved his phone back into his pocket and pushed his hands through his hair. Olive was thinking about Ashley again. The two had become best friends within two minutes of breathing the same air.

Ashley had only joined his school a few months before the Darthur disaster took place, after losing her parents and little brother to the fire she had accidentally set with magic in her sleep. Olivia was the first one to make her feel like it truly was not her fault.

If only he could get Ashley to talk to Olivia again. He was sure Ashley was capable of letting go of her anger long enough to see Darthur was not the man she should follow. She could come back home to Olivia and bring Thomas with her as well. Ashley had, after all, adopted him with the roll of little brother the moment she found out he had family in her hometown in Ireland.

As far as Stacey, Nazario, and Alastor were concerned, Merlin did not know how to handle them. Stacey was such an angry child, confused, but unwilling to listen to anyone's opinion but her own. Nazario was smart, very smart, and gifted with all things technology, but unable to do much magic and therefore always felt like an outcast in the school. Alastor… Merlin shook his head. Merlin lost all hope with Alastor a long time ago.

Merlin's hand dipped to the thick, celtic bracelet tied around his left wrist and twisted it back and forth. He was so tired of begging people to stay.

After a few fleeting moments, he gather himself up and went to the kitchen, making himself a fresh cup of coffee, reminding himself to only make one. It seemed he was out of coffee grinds. He would need to grab more, along with Olive's breakfast cereal, Johnathan's tea, and Ryan's oreos. The girl could not last a day without her oreos.

It was only 8am by the time he headed out to the shops, Olivia still the only one up and requesting a refill of nutella and something called a blender brush. He was not quite confident he knew what she wanted, but he had learned not to ask. The girl was shy enough in daily life. When asked a direct question from anyone older than her, she would turn into a stuttering mess, -no matter that Merlin looked no more than a decade older than her 15 years.

On the way to Tesco, Merlin detoured to the flat he had taken Arthur after ripping him out of Camelot's time. Everything was just as it had always been, no trace of life whatsoever. He hated the white walls and the brown furniture, but relished the way it was untouched by the soulless Arthur. At least he could remember. He never questioned his sanity here.

The moment he walked out of the building, his spine started to tingle. Through all the footsteps crowding the busy streets, he swore he could hear a single pair matching his pace, turning as he did. He stopped and sped towards one of the many alleyways, spinning once inside, prepared to call upon his magic.

"Professor?" Arthur asked, his hands raised in surrender.

Merlin shook his head and lowered his hands to his sides. "Arthur, it's you."

"Who else would it be?" Arthur smirked and strolled towards him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "I thought you would still be asleep."

"You must be rubbing off on me. I find myself waking up at ungodly hours far too often."

Merlin laughed harder than he should have, the joke was not that funny, but he was so happy to have Arthur speaking to him again that he could not help himself. He shook the laughter away and joined Arthur, turning him back towards the road. "Did Olivia send you? And if she did, did she happen to mention what a blender brush is?"

Arthur let Merlin lead him, shaking his head. "Why would she do that?"

Merlin's mouth twisted. "I asked her to give you your breakfast when you woke up. The toast?"

"Oh, yes," he nodded along, his gaze never leaving Merlin's face. "And the coffee."

"What?" Merlin nearly stopped in the middle of the street, backtracking over the morning. He was sure Arthur's cup was tipped over in the sink. "No. Did she make you coffee? You hate coffee."

Arthur seemed to search for something in his expression, but would not say what it was.

"You spat the one I gave you yesterday back into the cup." Merlin's nose crinkled. "Which was disgusting by the way."

Arthur gave a breathtaking smile and shook his head. "Of course, you're right. Tastes horrible." He hurried on to say, "I'm afraid I did not run into Olivia. I came of my own accord. I did not expect to find you."

"What else did you expect to find in an alley?"

"Good point. How could I not expect to find you there?"

Merlin tried to hold back his grin but failed hopelessly. Arthur was grinning back at him, his golden hair shining in the sunlight, his eyes sparkling with a good night's rest. Even his outfit looked well put together, a crisp black polo shirt hiding under a thin sweatshirt.

Merlin had not said all he wanted to on the banister the night before, but if what happened brought Arthur to him, smiling like this, he would gladly accept it. He would not make the mistake of telling Arthur what to do again. No matter how much he wanted to open up his heart, his apologies, and his life's story to him, he would refrain until asked. In the meantime, hopefully they could return to some form of normalcy.

Merlin poured as much sugar into his tone as possible, "Well, My Lord. If Your Highness wished to accompany me with the shopping, he only need ask. No need for His Lordship to throw himself into the slums with us common folk."

Suddenly, Merlin's head snapped forward, his hair falling into his face.

"You are overusing my titles," Arthur said. Hitting manservants upside the head apparently came by second nature. "Not that I mind. Actually, forget I said anything."

"Well, you did use mine."

Arthur nearly knocked himself into one of the many people on the street, trying to raise an eyebrow in Merlin's direction.

"Professor," Merlin clarified. "Since when do you call me that?"

Arthur contemplated his answer, and then shrugged. "I thought I would give it a try. Everyone else seems to be calling you that. Would you rather I call you by your given name?"

Merlin's brow pinched quizzically. "Well, you have been."

"No, I mean idiot. Idiot."

Merlin's lips puckered and he chose to ignore Arthur in favor of entering the store.

The Tesco was packed, as per usual, full of bright lights and fresh produce. The crowd spiralled around them as Merlin paused just inside, turning back to ask if Arthur wanted to return to the library, thinking this may all be too much for him to handle, but he strode right past him, into the first aisle without waiting for Merlin to follow.

Prat, Merlin thought fondly, and chased him into the baby section.

Arthur picked up a small rattle, shook it, and tossed it back into the bin. Merlin happily kept his snickers to himself.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Merlin asked. "Did you need something? You could have ringed me."

Arthur shook his head, inspecting a neon colored teething ring. "I needed fresh air."

"And any excuse to see me doing chores?" Merlin asked, rocking up onto his toes.

Arthur spared him a glare before charging down the next aisle, stopping near the make-up. Merlin bumped into at least three separate people in order to catch up to him.

Merlin gawped at the black, puffy stick Arthur held out, the label reading 'Blender Brush'. "How the hell did you find that?"

"Olivia paints nothing but her face and nails. I assumed it would be some kind of brush for hair." He pointed to the large white lettering. "But I know how to read."

"Shockingly," Merlin muttered, and another slap upside the head rewarded him.

"If I let you search, we'd be here all afternoon," Arthur quipped. "And I, for one, need to eat." He pulled out his phone and checked the time. "Soon. It's nearly lunch."

Merlin froze, his hand reaching in the space between them, hovering over the brush. "Where did you get that?" he asked curiously, gesturing to the phone.

"Borrowed one of the kids, mine was dead." Arthur quickly tucked it back into his jeans. "Do you have more to get?"

Merlin's eyes narrowed. He swore he had plugged Arthur's phone in this morning. It did not require a long time to charge.

He shook his head and nodded, leading the way towards the food and gleefully loading Arthur's arms with everything on his list.

"Why am I the one carrying everything?" Arthur grumbled as they approached the checkout.

"I believe you once told me I couldn't be trusted to hold anything more precious than a rock, for fear of me dropping it."

"You just wanted to see real muscles at work," Arthur said, and then winked.

The actual, real life wink threw Merlin off, his shoulder bumping into the register as he tripped backwards. He smirked away the red in his face and paid for the groceries, mumbling, "I'm green with envy."

"As you should be," Arthur confirmed, and shoved the bags into Merlin's arms, his eyes darting around. "I will be right back."

"Where are you…" Arthur pushed through the crowd, headed towards the bathrooms. "Oh." At least the kids had taught him the symbol for bathroom. That was one less awkward conversation they needed to have...again.

Just as Merlin moved to wait by the bathroom doors, he heard a familiar voice call above the crowd. "Professor!"

Merlin turned to find Ryan near the entrance, waving at him. He awkwardly waved back, nearly dropping the nutella as he did, and whipped around to see if Arthur had seen, but he was already out of sight.

"Do you have my oreos?" she asked, jogging to meet him.

"Of course," he said, flashing the bag at her.

She squealed gleefully and clapped her hands together.

"If there's anything else you need, you'll have to get it yourself." He gestured behind himself, "Arthur is with me. I don't think he enjoys large crowds unless they bend to his every whim and part like the Red Sea."

Ryan smiled evilly. "Arthur is here?" She wiggled her eyebrows. "Does that mean the parent trap thing worked? Oh, I knew it!"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Merlin chuckled.

"Come on, old man. How can you not know _Parent Trap_?" Ryan waved her hand at him before he could answer. "I'll make you watch it later. Important business to attend to. Have fun with his royal whatever. I'm on a tampon run."

"I did not need-" Merlin sighed as she darted out of view, "-to know that."

Once Arthur came out of the bathroom and they were back on the bustling street, Merlin turned to him and gestured towards the library. "Would you like to eat back home?" Merlin bit his tongue, physically shaking himself for the slip up. "Back at the library? We could pick something up."

Arthur seemed to contemplate this, looking up and down the street. "What's near here?"

"Um," Merlin moved them to the side and searched, never straying far from Arthur's side. "Mostly sit-down places."

"Did you not mention a bakery before?" Arthur asked helpfully.

"Mention a… You mean the one we went to yesterday?"

Arthur stepped back, his face falling into the shadow of the building, his shoulder sliding against the wall. He tilted his head and nodded.

"Are you sure you want to go back there?" Merlin asked, shifting the bags in his hands. "I thought you were uncomfortable with knowing he ate there."

Arthur's eyes squinted, the silence going unnaturally long.

"You know," Merlin said, shifting again. "The soulless you."

The tension seemed to melt from the air as Arthur pushed away from the wall. "I liked the food."

Merlin smiled up at him like the idiot he was named for, jerking out of his joyful daydream when Arthur pulled him sharply by the the shoulder, his other hand darting out to keep him upright by the waist.

Arthur smiled at the woman who almost knocked into Merlin's stumbling figure and added, "The company wasn't so bad either."

Merlin's mouth went dry, distracted by Arthur's ridiculously thick eyelashes and the hand that lingered on his hip. "What?"

"Yes," Arthur said and pulled his hands away. "The barista was very nice."

Merlin huffed out a laugh and led the way.

The shop was less busy than he expected for it almost being lunch, but he was thankful for the short line.

Lisa was working, as it seemed to always be, and greeted them with her usual cheerful smile. "Hello, you two. Nice to see you again so soon."

Arthur leaned over the counter and looked her up and down. "Not soon enough," he murmured coyly.

Merlin rolled his eyes as Lisa giggled.

"The usual, you saucy wanker?" Lisa asked.

"I think so," Arthur confirmed, his arms flexing as he leaned on the counter and threw out his arse, kicking one ankle over the other. "Unless there's something extra sweet you could recommend. I've got a bit of a craving today."

Lisa smirked as she input their order. "I hear Chad's chapstick tastes like sugar." She clicked her tongue at him playfully. "You could always give him a try, couldn't ya?"

"Oh, come on," Merlin huffed.

Arthur stared at him with a completely straight face and Merlin gaped back. Was it not only yesterday that Arthur walked into this very bakery, completely lost and following Merlin around like a little ducking? He seemed quite comfortable suddenly flirting it up with Lisa and _Chad._

Lisa giggled. "Looks like someone's jealous."

"I'm not-" Merlin threw up his hands and walked to the corner table, perfectly capable of hearing.

"It's nice to see you two back to normal," Lisa said. "I'm glad that accident didn't screw things up for you too bad."

"Accident?" Arthur asked.

"The one where you hit your head, right?"

"Right," Arthur nodded.

"I'll send Chad over with your food in a mo." She winked.

"Sounds like a good plan," Arthur nodded and sauntered to Merlin's table.

Merlin sighed. "Don't encourage her."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Arthur deadpanned.

Chad came over with their food soon enough, grabbing at Arthur's arm and complimenting his hair, before shaking his way back behind the counter. Merlin groaned, but Arthur seemed strangely alright with it. Merlin had expected Arthur to be more accepting of modern ways as time went on, but he had not expected Arthur to turn completely around so quickly, especially with being hit on by men. Men that were not Gwaine, drunk, and confused.

"About this soulless version of me," Arthur said, seemingly out of nowhere, shoving a piece of roast beef into his mouth.

Merlin shook away his rampant thoughts, taking a large sip of hot coffee. "What about Darthur?"

Arthur stared at him for an uncomfortable amount of time, his face expressionless. Merlin was about to ask him if everything was alright, if he needed Merlin to talk some sense into Chad, when he asked, "Remind me, what does Darthur mean, exactly?"

"The kids didn't tell you?"

"Olivia, Ryan, or Sam?"

"Or Johnathan, yes those are the kids." He tilted his head to the side and ripped off a corner of his sandwich, popping it into his mouth. "Other than my former students, who I have yet to introduce you to. I believe Sam told you about them."

"Yes." Arthur waved him off. "Now, explain Darthur to me. Perhaps I didn't understand it."

"It would be very confusing." Merlin swallowed and contemplated the sense of explaining space travel to Arthur. "There were these movies- um, stories called _Star Wars_ and one of the evil characters in them was called Darth Vader. Ryan is a bit of a fan and mashed the names together. I remember the original showing. The news had a clip of the view from above where-"

"Darth Vader," Arthur interrupted.

"Yes."

"He's evil."

Merlin nodded.

"And we compare him to a soulless version of me."

"Yes."

Arthur took a moment to soak up that knowledge, and Merlin spent the time returning to his half of the blueberry muffin. When it was nearly gone, he looked up to see Arthur staring down at him, his mouth a thin line.

Arthur's jaw twitched and he carefully asked, "Do we really think Darthur is actually evil?"

Merlin could feel his face scrunching up in confusion. That was quite a philosophical question to bring up so suddenly, and in a public place, it hardly seemed appropriate.

"Did you hit your head?" Merlin asked.

Arthur raised a condescending brow and continued haughtily, "Try to use your brain for once. Could he really be soulless? Can't you see his point of view in this?"

Merlin's jaw dropped open. "You can?"

"I am him."

"You're not."

Arthur's glare left no room for their former argument to continue.

It was Merlin's turn for an uncomfortable pause, as he played with the corner of his napkin. After another large sip of coffee, he looked around and lowered his voice. "Of course he's not evil. He's misguided and too stubborn to listen to anyone's opinion but his own. But he's not… I mean he's doing what he thinks is right. It's not his fault he was torn from the afterlife and his soul was left behind. Evil has no intention other than to hurt for the sake of hurting."

Arthur nodded shortly, his arms crossing over the table. "Not evil, yet you want to kill him."

"I don't-" Merlin stopped himself, his gaze dropping back to the table.

Killing Darthur would prevent him from hurting another human being. Yet, he was surprisingly hard to kill. Whenever asked, Merlin would always answer it was the only way, because that was true. However, he would be lying to himself and to Arthur if he did not admit he was considering alternatives.

He glanced back up and Arthur gestured for him to continue.

Normally, Merlin would not share this information, but if his king was asking him, it was only fair.

"I don't want to," he admitted, breathing out long and slow, his body crumpling under the surreal amount of pressure that never left his shoulders. "I don't think I can."

"Why?" Arthur asked, purely curious, without even a trace of the expected anger.

"Because…" Merlin squinted down at the remnants of his sandwich, glad the kids were not around to hear this. "Because he's still you. Some form of you." He threw down his empty cup. "Even if he's some creature that took on your form, the lines are blurred. When he has almost every part of you, he's you. And when he leaves-" His chin dipped into his chest and his tiny voice cracked, "-you'll leave me too. You'll return home to your time. With Gwen and the knights and Camelot. I can't ask you to stay. I know you don't want to."

Arthur did not wait for him to collect himself. "Then why kill him?"

"You mean," he pressed his lips together. "We should capture him?"

Arthur pulled his chair closer, leaned over the table, and gripped Merlin's forearm. "The more I learn about this world, the more it scares me."

Merlin's eyes dropped to the fingers gripping him. "But there is still good in it."

"I know, Merlin, I know. You are some of that good." Arthur squeezed once more and pulled away. "But does the good outweigh the bad? If you reach out to him, listen to what he has to say, maybe you can work together. There doesn't need to be a war." Arthur leaned over more, enunciating every word. "No one needs to die."

Merlin shook his head. "What he's planning will start a war."

"Maybe he's not planning for a war to start."

"Then how will he-"

"Why do you think he was at Buckingham Palace?" Arthur's eyes sparked with unexpected enthusiasm.

"We don't know if he was there," Merlin said slowly, the edge of the table cutting into his stomach.

"Ash and Thomas were."

"Yes, but-"

"But why?"

"I don't know!" Merlin pulled back sharply, nearly toppling his chair. "I've had just as much time as you to suss it out. What do you think?"

The corners of Arthur's mouth quirked up before settling into an uneasy solemn expression. "I think you should reevaluate your options, before you're left to live the rest of your days completely alone. You are no closer to stopping him." He closed in, his arms resting on Merlin's side of the table. "If you kill him, you will be alone. Forever. The prophecy is done. I will never come back again. All the people you love in your life will be gone. Even Sam will one day leave you." Arthur's hand grazed Merlin's wrist, his nails catching on the band of Merlin's bracelet. "You can't keep killing yourself to see them."

Merlin pulled his arms back and hid them under the table. His slumped figure still leaned into Arthur, but his weak gaze did not leave his hands.

Arthur gripped the table and continued. "You are capable of unimaginable things. Think of what you could do if you started from scratch. You already said, he's not evil. He's misguided. Well," His knuckles turned white. He found Merlin's eyes and lowered his voice, urgently whispering, "Guide him."

Merlin's baffled face slowly lifted. How much had Arthur thought this through? Was he up all night contemplating? How did he look so well rested? Merlin never even considered the possibility of joining Darthur and manipulating him after gaining his trust, but, then again, Merlin was never trained to be a warlord. Perhaps this was looking at the bigger picture.

It seemed odd to bring this up now, after all Arthur had done towards stopping Darthur. There could be a million reasons for Arthur to come to this conclusion and it was not Merlin's job to question his king. However, it would not stop him from incessantly requesting more details.

"I don't know. I-" Merlin jumped at the vibration in his pocket, his phone buzzing over and over again. He rubbed at his blurry eyes and slid the phone up to his ear, answering with a watery, "Hello?"

"Professor?" Ryan answered, her voice frantic. "Are you alright?"

Merlin cleared his throat, tightly smiled at Arthur, and said, "Yes, of course. Why?"

"Is Arthur with you?"

"Yes, he's right here."

"Are you hallucinating?"

"Ryan!" another voice squeaked in the distance, most likely Olivia. "You can't just ask someone-"

"Shut up," she yelled back. "Are you?"

"Hallucinating?" Merlin's heart thumped and his eyes jumped to Arthur. He quickly thrust out an icy hand and gripped Arthur fingers, squeezing until he felt the warmth of another ebb into him. He sunk into a sigh and released him. "What are you talking abou-"

Arthur reached over the table and grabbed his wrist, his other hand grabbing for the phone. "Let me speak to them."

"Hang on, he wants to talk to you." Merlin handed the phone over before Ryan could reply. "It's Ryan," he supplied.

"Ryan," Arthur greeted warmly. "Hello?" Arthur shrugged at him and then jerked, pressing the phone back against his ear. "Oh, there you are. Thought I lost you."

Merlin was thankful Arthur took the phone, and used both hands to rub at his temples. His head started to pound with an upcoming headache. They had finished eating and could return to the library and discuss this massive change in opinion once Arthur was done, no matter how many extra oreo boxes Ryan wanted. That was probably what she was asking for, based on Arthur's half-smile.

"Is there something you wanted to say to me?" Arthur asked into the phone, waiting for a response, sipping at his coffee. "I can't wait," he laughed and listened for something else. "So lovely to hear your voice." After another pause, he looked up at Merlin and his smile grew in full, his teeth dazzling and his eyes crinkling. "Never. I wouldn't dream of it."


	13. Chapter 13

 

“Ryan,” a confident voice called through the mobile.  

Arthur stared down at the phone in his hand, dumbfounded. He looked up and saw matching expressions on Ryan and Olivia's face.

“Hello?”

“It’s him,” Olivia squeaked.

“Oh, there you are.  Thought I lost you,” Darthur cooed through the speaker.  “Is there something you wanted to say to me?”  

Ryan snarled, “I cannot wait to rip your pathetic excuse for balls off and shove them down your throat, douche-face!”

“I can’t wait,” Darthur chuckled darkly.

“Where are you?” Arthur snapped.

“So lovely to hear your voice,” Darthur chirped brightly.

Ryan snatched the phone from Arthur’s hand.  “Well, it’s your own, you narcissistic ass!”

“Ryan!” Olivia gasped.

“Like he doesn’t know.”

Arthur stepped towards Ryan, holding her wrist to keep the phone steady under his mouth.  He laced as much danger as he could into his tone, his voice rumbling with promised furry.  “If you lay a single finger on him, I will find you and I will end you myself.”

“Never,” he murmured the sinister pledge, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The connection ended.

They had no time to lose.

"Battlestations," Arthur commanded. "I need everyone at the ready. Olivia, get Johnathan and Sam from the command room.”  Olivia ran.  “Ryan, with me. Keep calling Merlin back."

Ryan dialled, and yelped, pulling the phone from her face. "The phone’s off!"

"Use your magic to connect to him. Speak through his mind."

"I can't do that," Ryan panted. "He only ever said the Druids could. I'm black!"

Arthur ignored the outburst, turning for the main lobby. "Then we'll-"

"Sammy!" Ryan shouted into his ear. "She's weirdly close with the professor and has a super sketchy past she never talks about. She might be a Druid. Maybe she can do it!  Johnny would’ve told us by now if he could."

"Arthur!" Sam's lanky frame ran towards them, Johnathan hot on her tail, and Olivia lagging behind in her heels.

The group entered the main lobby, Arthur heading towards one of the many glass cases. He spoke over his shoulder, "Sam, I need you to talk to Merlin in your mind, if you can. Johnathan, help me get some weaponry. Olivia, try Darthur's phone once more. Ryan, go up to-"

They all froze when a flash of white light blinded the large room, a man's silhouette coming clear as the bright spots faded. Everyone turned to him, arms raised, prepared to either use magic or physical force.

Only Merlin appeared.

Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but his eyes locked onto Arthur with his fists raised. "How did…" he muttered. Then, his face went blank and the groceries crashed to the floor, items tumbling everywhere.

"Emrys?" Sam called shakily, stepping forward. Johnathan grabbed her by the arm, holding her back, but she shoved him off and cautiously approached. "It's Samantha. You are not imagining things. This-" she gestured back to the group, "-is your Arthur Pendragon, your king and your friend. The other you saw was a dark spirit masquerading as the man you love and live for.  Neither imagined."

Merlin's eyes jumped from Sam to Arthur, his breaths picking up pace and his hands twitching at his side.

"You are safe," Sam continued. "You are with family. You walk in a world of bright colors. Of blue butterflies and golden wings."

"What the hell is she talking about now," Ryan muttered.

Johnathan shushed her.

Merlin's eyes never left Arthur, so Arthur did not move.

Sam touched Merlin's arm, barely putting any pressure, counting his rapid breaths.

Merlin whispered brokenly, "Say the rest of it."

Sam's eyes started to well with unshed tears. Johnathan pushed through the group to get to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She leaned into the touch and nodded.

"You sing the songs of nature," she said. "And ride on the back of dragons." Her breath caught and the tears started to fall, her broken sobs making it difficult for her to continue. "His day will come, and you will live on, dancing in the oceans of starlight. Come back to me. And my dau- daughter of-" Another sob made her pause, Johnathan's arms wrapping fully around her. "-of mine. We will guide you to the river bed. Follow our voice, through the brush and the trees. Make your way back, to her and to me."

Instantly, Merlin's fists clenched. His entire body tensed. The air itself seemed to charge with unseen static as thunder clapped from nowhere. The fire, always crackling, burst and roared, the flames nearly touching the ceiling. Water spouted from the waterfall, spewing over the stone and down the adjacent corridor. The crystal above blacked out, huge thunder clouds rolling in from the ceiling, lightening flashing violently.

Everyone besides Merlin and Arthur shouted in fright. Arthur did not take his gaze away from Merlin's burning eyes, the golden light that accompanied his magic sparking to life. The gold burned brighter than he had ever seen it, like two tiny suns jammed into the center of his pupils. The burning of the red and orange fire and the flashing of the yellow lightning mixing with the magical suns threw harsh shadows that made Merlin inhuman and terrifying -a wrathful god avenging his forgotten place in this world.

"Professor?!" Olivia shouted, the flames growing in height.

The water tumbled towards them all, soaking Arthur's feet up the to ankle,  the heat from the fire never ceasing.   Thunder clapped again and the clouds started to swirl.

Johnathan dragged Sam towards the exit into the library, yelling about getting the rest of the people in the building out, using his magic to call the lift, as she tried to call Merlin by one of his many names. Ryan pulled Olivia behind her, chasing after them as the metal doors opened, flooding the lift with water.

The storm continued, Merlin's power soaring around the room, the wind picking up and spinning the elements around them. Arthur's hair and clothes whipped into his eyes and stung his skin but he did not move.

"Merlin," he screamed, his voice straining. "Merlin, listen to me! You need to calm down!"

An unearthly, hollow sound ripped from Merlin's throat, words Arthur could not understand, words of magic. "Ic dóm ábeþecaþ hine!"

"Merlin! Merlin!  Stop being a half-wit or you'll kill us all! Merlin!”

The inferno swirling in Merlin's eyes bled down his cheeks and into his veins, burning up his insides, magic pouring through his muscles, and shining through his flesh and clothes, his frame trembling.  The wind swarmed harder, water rushing into the flames, steam spiralling into the clouds, lightening cutting through the smoke that smothered Merlin’s glowing body.

“Merlin!”  Arthur took purposeful steps towards the fearsome magic pulsing out of the sorcerer, fighting not to run and spook the man.  “Don’t leave me now.”

The shine turned his own skin an eldritch yellow.  The lines of Merlin’s jaw blended into his neck with the strength of it.  

“Merlin,” Arthur implored, squinting, unable to tell if Merlin tilted towards him.  “You need to come back.”  

A loud cracking sounded in time with a lightning strike, rubble crumbling to the ground somewhere behind him.  Icy water splashed up to their knees, Merlin unmoved by the sudden wave.  

“Merlin!  Come back to me!  Your king commands it!”  Arthur reached out, palm up, but the heat was too strong.  He pulled his arm back and shoved a hand over his eyes, trying to find any human features left in front of him.  “You need to stay with me.  Stay with me, Merlin!"

The air itself froze.  Merlin's body stilled its quaking and his eyes blinked for the first time.  The golden suns flashed and started to fade. The heat from the fire dissipated and the water softly stopped streaming. The thunder clouds peeled away, breaking apart in the streams of the crystal overhead.

Merlin's exhausted face lifted, the glow slowly melting back into his body.  Water and sweat dripped from his his soaked frame, his shoulders rounded and his knees sinking.  He blinked again, eyes looking at nothing. His jaw snapped shut, he pulled himself up, and stumbled, kicking up water, as he made his way to the back of the school.

Arthur stood, struck to his core, unable to move, absorbing the chaos of the room.

The water fountain noisily slapped against the lake of water coating the floor. The chairs and a few of the glass cases were strew across the ground, grocery items floating on separate ends of the room. Black marks stretched across the stone, the painting of the dragon and the girl burned halfway through, barely hanging onto its spot on the wall.   A large chuck of the ceiling lay crumbled, blocking the corridor behind it.

The ringing of his phone pierced through the silence and he fumbled to answer it, "Yes?"

"Sounded like it calmed down," Johnathan answered. "Is he alright?"

"I'll handle it. You handle this mess." Arthur flipped the phone shut and followed Merlin to his office.

The door to the hidden home behind the painting was wide open.  Wet splotches were spattered all over the floor, a trail leading towards the bedrooms. Arthur followed but turned when he heard glass clinking in the kitchen, jeans and a t-shirt heaped at the entrance of the small room.

Arthur walked in, coughing as the acidic taste of something entered his nose and mouth. Merlin spun around near the sink, a burning stick in one hand and a glass of something in the other, dressed in only his undergarments.

"What is that?" Arthur asked, waving the smoke from his face. "It smells vile."

"Cigarette," Merlin mumbled. "You want a drink?" He turned to the counter and shakily poured brown liquid into a clear glass before Arthur had the chance to answer.

The moment Arthur took it, Merlin slumped against the counter, his hands slapping on either side of the open bottle.  Arthur turned to the table lined against the opposite wall, swigging down a large gulp.

"I couldn't find him." Merlin sucked on the cigarette, a large puff of smoke escaping his nose. "That's what this-" he gestured to his eyes, "-was. I was searching for him. He knew I would."

"How far were you able to-"

"China." Merlin chugged half his glass and topped himself off. "Nothing."

Arthur thought back to the global maps Sam and Johnathan had showed him, the wide expanses of land and sea on a sphere that never stopped turning.  He welcomed the burn of another large  gulp of alcohol.

Merlin crushed the cigarette into an empty bowl and downed his entire glass, choking as he said, "Well, I guess that's it then."

Merlin poured himself some more, never turning around, apparently needing the counter to keep himself upright.  Every shaky breath exposed new thick splotches of scar tissue strewn over his overly exposed flesh. Some were clearly caused by blades or fire, but others splintered out in ways that would require something far more fearsome than a simple arrow.  

"What?" Arthur asked, not moving.  

Merlin ran a trembling hand through his dark hair, pulling on the ends and shoving himself sloppily around, bending into the corner. "Do you ever wonder why our colors are red and gold?" He lifted his glass in mock salute. "Blood and magic."

Arthur watched the contents of the glass drain into Merlin’s bobbing throat and shifted, his arms moving without purpose.  "Red doesn't always mean blood. Gold doesn't always mean magic."

"I brought you here to kill yourself." Merlin moved away from the mostly empty bottle and started banging open cupboard doors. "How awful is that?"

Arthur was not sure how to answer that question. Merlin was more wild animal than man, ready to snap at any moment.  He said instead, "The dead should be dead."

"But he's you!" Merlin shouted madly and started tearing drawers open instead, frantically moving items around without really searching for anything.

"Yesterday you said that he and I are not the same person."

Merlin continued to ramble, "He is the only piece of you I have left in this world and he knows it.  I bloody told him!"

Arthur gripped his glass tighter, his wet boots screeching against the tiled floor. Another drawer banged open.  He swallowed uncomfortably, forcing himself into a warrior’s mask, to remain emotionless and in control.  "How much of one's identity needs to be stolen before one becomes that person?"

"Exactly!" Merlin spun around, liquid sloshing up the side of his cup and sliding down his hand.  “He’s not you but- but-”

"But he is.  And if he is me, then I want you to kill me.”  His teeth ground together, his composure slipping.  “If that is who I become, then I need you to kill me before I can do more harm!"

"I can't do it, Arthur!”  Merlin threw his arms up, the glass slipping from his grasp and shattering against the floor.  He stared at the shards in horror.  “I can't kill you again."

Arthur slammed his cup on the table behind him and threw his hands on his hips.  "I'm ordering you to."

"I won't!”  Merlin spun in place, going nowhere.  “He is _it_ for me! How screwed up is that? He's some soulless thing bent on taking over the world, but because it's you, I can't do it.  I can’t!"

"To care for a soulless thing, is human.  You need to-"

"I'm not human.”  Merlin spun around and rummaged for another glass, talking to the back of the cupboard.  “I'm needy and lonely and fucked up."

"You are more human than anyone I've ever known! Look at yourself!”  Arthur grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around.  “Look at how you feel.  He tricked you and you are mad.  This is what being human is!"

Merlin stumbled and pushed him away.  "How have I not scared you off?! Did you see what I just did?!”  He threw his entire body in the direction of the open door.  “I wasn't even thinking about it! I just did it!  I’m fucking terrifying!"

The indoor tempest was the greatest display of power Arthur had ever felt or seen.  Logically, he knew he should be scared.  His father’s voice was commanding him to end the life of the trembling wreck in front of him.  But, during all of it, Arthur had not run away.  He never even considered it.

"I'm not scared.”

"How?”  Merlin shook his head hopelessly, his eyes wet.  “I don't know what I'm fucking doing, Arthur! I'm making it up as I go. You saw the crystal! What if it really is you that dies? What if I brought you here to kill yourself _and_ to kill yourself?!"

"You won't let that happen.”  Arthur meant every word but startled himself by saying, “I trust you."

"How?!"  Merlin flopped back towards the exit.

"Because you are Merlin.”  Arthur grabbed him by the shoulders again and forced him to stay in the room.  “You are the boy I've always known. You have more soul in your finger than most men do in their body. You mend my knights' armor, without asking. You take leftover food to the lower towns late at night. You slip me extras of my favorite dessert on nights after meetings with my father. You put flowers in Gwen's room. You make poor whittlings to cheer Gaius up when he has a long day. You stayed by Camelot’s side for years as you watched her fight and grow.”  He squeezed harder.  “You have the greatest magic I have ever seen.  You _could_ take over the world, but only use it to help her people across the lands.  You help kids who are lost without you. You take them in when they have nowhere else to go. You show them what good can be, even to those who ran away when they saw an easier option. You are who you have always been and always will be.  Good."

Merlin’s eyes pinched and he collapsed to the floor, curling up behind his knees.  "I can't even tell the difference between you and he. I spent all day with him and I didn't know. He drank the coffee.”  He threw his hands over his eyes and trembled.  “I'm the worst sorcerer ever."

Arthur smiled down at him wryly.  "Based off that magic trick you just pulled, I believe we can safely say you are not."

Merlin swept his arms to the ground, his red face incredulous, his voice fragile.  "Aren't you going home? After all that, don't you want to go back to your own time? You didn't ask for this.  For me."

Arthur picked his cup back up and leaned against the table.  "I'm not going anywhere."

In the silence, Arthur rubbed his hands along his half full glass, ignoring the way his ring scraped. The sight of Merlin slumped on the floor seemed to only make him furious.  If Merlin felt this inadequate, when he clearly was not, it was only because he had an inadequate leader.  He had failed as king.

Merlin curled further into himself, his nearly naked, damp body shaking with a great chill.  He was a terrifying, beast of a sorcerer, capable of great feats, but he was just a little boy, trapped in a never ending nightmare. He did not deserve this.

Arthur squeezed his hands into fists, jumping as the glass in his hand shattered between his fingers and cut into his palm. He dropped the shards to the floor and cradled his bleeding hand to his chest.

"Are you okay?!" Merlin jumped to his feet and pulled Arthur's stinging hand out to inspect the damage.

"No, I'm not bloody okay!" Arthur yelled and hissed as Merlin took out the shards he could see.

Then, Merlin started laughing. Really, really laughing. He had to step back and lean against the large white food box to keep upright.

"What's so funny?" Arthur asked.

"I'm so glad to hear you say that!"

"Me bleeding out?!"

Merlin was shaking with laughter, unable to answer and he gestured vaguely towards Arthur's bottoms and gasped, "You're jeans are all wet!"  He looked down and gasped, “Mine are gone!  I’m in my pants!”

"You’ve had too much to drink." Arthur’s saying so only made Merlin laugh harder.

"Don't you see what this means?" Merlin cried out, a grin beating away the wrinkles that had formed because of their conversation. "It wasn't him! I was wrong about the vision! It wasn't him. _You_ broke the glass! You have the ring. He doesn't."

"Alright," Arthur nodded.  He thought he understood.

There was a vision from the crystal where the Pendragon ring sat on his finger, wrapped around a glass. It had tapped, scraped, and then shattered the cup.

Arthur looked at Merlin, half collapsed with giddy laughter, and shook his head.  "You really can't hold your liquor. Let's go to bed and we can discuss things in the morning."

"Huh?" Merlin breathed out, wiping the tears from his eyes.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Let's go."

After making sure Merlin was safely tucked away in his room, the warlock’s exhausted body plummeting easily into sleep, he crept away to check on the lobby.  The kids were each magicing their own section back to rightness, Ryan and Olivia swirling the water back into the waterfall pond and Jonathan righting chairs and glass boxes.  

Sam was sitting near the fire, her long legs covered in soot as she knelt next to the pit, her gaze locked on the painting slipping off the wall, tears streaming down her face, soft humming coming from behind her closed mouth.

Arthur walked over and knelt beside her.  He waited until she blinked, and then put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.  “Thank you.  I may not know what you did, but Merlin needed to hear what it was you said.  He was lost in a lie and I fear what he may have done worse if you were not there to guide him.”

Sam smiled at him shortly before looking back up at the painting.  Her voice was rough as she whispered, “My mum.  She came up with it.  Emrys could fall from reality at a moment’s notice.  The years would catch up and his mind would overwhelm him.  He would see you, sometimes.”  She glanced at him again before dropping her gaze to her lap and playing with one of the rings on her finger.  “My mother, Mary, wanted to be sure he knew he was not alone.  The two of us would say that verse to him every time he questioned his eyes or ears.  He’s had family there for him for a long time.  I wish he’d remember that.”

Arthur nodded, his hand squeezing her tighter.

“I wish,” she sniffed.  “I wish she were still here.  It feels wrong to say it without mum.  She would sing it.  I’m rubbish at singing.”

“You’ll have to teach me,” he said.  “Though I’m afraid I cannot sing very well either.”

She nodded.  “You are his family too.”

Arthur smiled gently, pulled his hand back, and followed her gaze up to the painting.  He tried to remember what the painting looked like before.  The dragon that had been sitting next to the little girl was nearly gone, its tail the only piece of white and silver left shining against the green mountaintop.  “Is that you?”

“That’s mum,” she said and smiled wide at him.  “And Aithusa in one of her rare visits."  She rubbed at her cheeks and soot smeared down her jaw.  "I suppose it wasn’t a smart idea to hang it near the fireplace after all.”

Arthur looked back up at the painting, squinting at the image of the young girl.  If it was Sam's mother, it must have been painted only decades before.  Meaning, there was a dragon somewhere out there still alive.  Not just any dragon.  He knew that dragon well. 

He shook off his questions and laid his fingers over her jaw, wiping away the soot. “Your mother would be proud of what you are doing here, fighting for what you believe in.  For what it’s worth, I am too.”

“Thank you."  Sam’s smile brought more tears to her eyes.  "How is he?”

Arthur dropped his hands and shook his head.  “Drunk and asleep.  I’ll go back to him soon."  He looked towards the back of the school, his gaze darting to the hole in the ceiling.   It would need to be the next thing the kids fixed.  He gestured to the group surrounding the waterfall.  "Keep an eye on these three for me."

“I shall.”

Arthur pushed his way off the ground and strode around the rubble, stopping only as he heard a shout.

“Yes!” Ryan screamed enthusiastically. “The oreos are alive!  Thank god for waterproof wrapping!”  She held up a blue package, dancing around in her soaking wet shoes, whooping and laughing.

“Seriously?” Johnathan snapped.  He shook his head and mumbled as he picked up chunks of glass shards, “Do you have to be so obnoxious all the bloody time?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ryan clipped.  “I can barely understand you with that accent.  Were you complaining about the waterfall now being tea flavored?  Cus it’s really not my fault-”

“Come off it!” he yelled, surging to his feet.  “Can you be serious for even a moment?  Do you see what just happened here?”

“You’re just crying because girlfriend weirdo over there is having a fit!” she flapped a hand towards Sam.  

Johnathan’s face screwed up in disgust.  “Such a lovely human being, you are.”  

Ryan scoffed.  “Just because the Professor went a little fucking nuts, does that mean we all have to lose it?  Who the fuck cares?!  He’ll get over it!”

“Who cares?!”  Johnathan tossed the collected glass to the side.  “Consider someone other than yourself for a change!”

“Are you calling me selfish?” Ryan tossed the oreos to the ground, her eyes burning with a murky yellow.  “Because I know you wouldn’t be so stupid-”

“Stop it!” Olivia shrieked, the two arguing teens plunging into silence.  “We are on the same team."  She threw up her hands.  "And we lost.”

“She’s right,” Arthur called, marching towards the trio, his wet footsteps echoing in the large room.  “He won this round.  But we cannot let him divide us.  We can only defeat him, as one.  United in our cause.”  He glanced towards the corridor Merlin slept in.  “These petty arguments, need to end.”  He clipped his heels together and stood at attention before his troop of sorcerers.  “Merlin has been there for us, for longer than we realize.  We need to return the favor.”

Johnathan and Ryan looked properly cowed.  Olivia shuffled her feet, her purple nails clacking together.  

“He’s right,” Sam called, standing behind him.  “We are a family divided.  It’s time to get our other members back.”

Johnathan nodded at her.  “It’s been awhile since we’ve seen Professor cause a hurricane.  I’ll kick the arse of anyone thinks they can upset him like that.”

“I just really like oreos,” Ryan mumbled. “Sorry for calling you a weirdo, Sammy.”

Sam shook her head.  “Think nothing of it.”

“Sorry for yelling,” Johnathan muttered.

Ryan stepped close enough to punch him in the shoulder, tapping him on the bicep.  “No problemo, dude.  Sorry about your tea exploding.”

Johnathan snorted.

“The time for action, is now.”  Arthur walked forward, making sure to catch each of their gazes individually.  “We have lost the element of surprise.  We must move quickly.  You all have good hearts and are capable of great things.  Together, we will defeat him.”  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there were Druids that were black, but with whitewashed history, I figure we think of them as being mostly/only white.  Especially since we picture the UK as being very white.  If you know anything about this subject, I am very curious.


End file.
